Legacy of Light
by LoveLoveLovix
Summary: 16 year old Story is the granddaughter of a powerful witch... but when you room with the the Winx Daughters, that means nothing. Now Story must navigate friendship, love, and a familiar, but new, enemy- just to make it through her freshman year at Alfea.
1. One Of Your Bunch

**Legacy of Light**

**A Second Generation Story**

**Author's Note: While writing the first chapter of "One Of You Winx," I realized it sounded a little stereotypical second gen. I don't intend to keep this pattern. **

**Another thing you might notice is that some daughters may be referred to by a couple different names. For example, the names Anya and Stella are interchangeable in this story unless otherwise stated.**

**Also, not all of the characters have been introduced. They will be in chapters to come. As there are a lot (at least 15 main characters), I will do a brief review of each character introduced upon conclusion of the chapter.

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**

_Chapter One: One Of Our Bunch_

Story walked through the doors of her apartment, her rolling suitcase bumping the backs of her ankle with a thud. She paused for a moment inside the common area, soaking in the tables, the couches, the large picture window.

Great Dragon, she had waited so long to be here. And there she was. She had arrived at Alfea, in the Dragon Flame Dormitory no less. And… well, rumor had it… she would be rooming with Princess Dafne of Eraklyon herself. But that was just word in the quad.

She was thinking all of this when a short, petite girl with bright blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair ran out. "You must be Story of… um, where are you from?"

"Romula. You're…"

The girl didn't answer, only flipped her locks. "One of the lesser realms, then. Let's see. Your guardian fairy is called the Novella, right? Are you training to be her? You should start using that name if you are, I'm going by Fira from now on." As she spoke, the nameplate on the door changed to Princess Fira of Eraklyon.

"I'm not training to be Novella, no," said Story. "I… I just have a patriotic name."

Fira pouted. "Pity. Guardian fairies are ultra powerful and have SO many special privileges when they are in Alfea. That's what my mommy told me."

Story was liking Fira less and less by the second.

Luckily, she was soon relieved of having to put up with the girl. A gasp came from behind her, followed by a blur of brunette and tan. "Dafne! Ehmadragon, it's Daf!" The girl enveloped Fira in an embrace, as long hair the color of tree bark fell upon them both.

Fira laughed. "It's not Daf anymore, remember?"

The girl pulled back, and Story saw the largest pair of hazel eyes ever. "Ehmadragon, you're right. Fira. Oooh, we could call you Fear!"

Fira pantomimed a magic ray. "Striking my own nickname into the hearts of witches everywhere. Nice, Anya, nice."

"Ah ah ah- if you get to be Fira, I'm going to be the Stella from now on. The Guardian Fairy of Planetary Alignments and the Solar System."

"Wow," Story muttered. Two future Guardian Fairies, one dorm.

Stella's head flicked up, sending her wild hair flying in the air once again. "Who is _that_?" she asked.

"Story of Romula. You're Princess Anya, future Stella of Solaria, right?"

Her eyes rolled. "And you only figured that out after hearing me say it to Fira. Smart, noob. Real smart."

Story started to respond, but Stella turned away. "Where are Lupa and Tecna?"

"They'll be here soon, I bet. I'll send them a text. Dragon, it's great that Mommy arranged for us all to room together. I swear, Alfea's gonna be the best three years of our lives. What classes do you have?"

It was obvious that they barely even noticed Story. She walked into her room and started to unpack. Any other girl might have used magic, but she liked her hands to be busy. First, she took out her bedsettings. Then she hung posters on her side of the room. She became very engrossed in making sure each paper hung at the perfect angle.

"Nice decorating. Maybe that can be your job when you graduate," said (another) new voice.

Story turned. Sitting on the opposite bed, pink hair in a cute curly bob, was a girl with amber eyes and a sweet smile. "Hiya, roomie!"

"I thought I was rooming with the princess of Eraklyon," Story asked, utterly confused.

The new girl's smile faltered a little. "Well, um… she felt more comfortable in a room with someone she knew. I didn't mind, so I traded her." She stood up and held out a pale, long hand. "My friends are all using their titles now, so I guess I'm Lupa. But between you and me, I'll never be used to that." Lupa winked. "Don't tell."

"What was your name before?"

Her face turned embarrassed. "Morgan. After my grandmother. I always hated that name, but weirdly enough, it'll always be more me than Lupa is."

"Morgan," Story tried. "Hi, Morgan. I'm Story."

"Nice to meet you. Though I of course know your life already. Your story, if you will pardon the pun." Morgan rolled her eyes. "I talked to An… um, Stella, on the way in. You're a mundane fairy, not from any recognizable realm, and not comparing at all to her in areas of beauty or fashion, though she said your shoes are to die for."

Story looked down. Her older brother had picked them out. "That basically covers it," she commented dryly.

Morgan gave her a quick hug, like they were best friends already. "It's fine. I'm a mundane fairy in all but ceremonial title- like, third in line for the throne. The only reason they tolerate me is because our moms all knew each other. And I don't think either my mom or I ever really felt like we fit in. Trust me, though- once you get used to Dafne and Anya and Grace, whatever names they go by, they're not too bad to deal with."

"I wonder when Grace is going to get here, anyway." Morgan's brow furrowed. "She's the easiest to deal with, and once you get in good with her, An and Daf aren't half as hard."

Story smiled and nodded, but questions flashed through her head. Wouldn't that still make them a couple steps into Omega too far? Did that mean this Grace girl was nice? And… did Story even want to be friends with them?

* * *

**Character Review:**

**Story of Romula: the main character. Not much is known about her yet, but she is a commoner.  
**

**Princess Dafne of Eraklyon, the Fira: power of Dragon Flame. Daughter of Bloom and Sky. Extremely charming.**

**Princess Anya of Solaria, the Stella: power of Planetary Alignment and the Solar System. Daughter of Stella and Brandon. A blunt and reckless fairy with a southern accent.**

**Morgan of Earth, the Lupa: power over animals. Daughter of Roxy and Andy. Friendly to all, though she never feels like she truly belongs anywhere, especially within the Winx Daughters.**


	2. Midnight

**Author's Note: The following chapter contains a little bit of PG-13 in it. You have been warned.**

**Banana-nana BATMAN!**

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_Chapter Two: Midnight_

Morgan waited up late that night, waited until after Daf and Anya had finished giggling in the room next door and had gone to sleep. By that time, Story had been out like a light for some time. It had been a rather exhausting day for the less powerful fairy girl.

She yawned at the thought. The only reason Morgan was up at all was because she was waiting for Grace to come. It would be just like her to get held up and not tell anyone, but when you can text with your thoughts, it was really no excuse. Morgan hoped nothing happened to Gracie. Grace was a year older than her, and a lot more quiet and serious, and she didn't like to worry people.

Her serenity had been apparent from birth, when her mother (the Tecna of Zenith) and her father had looked into her eyes. Riven had been seriously messed up- thinking about his ex-wife and his new wife, and their new baby. He had been on drugs, had been drinking, doing too many dangerous things for the adrenaline rush. But the story went that when he saw the girl who was a product of reason and utter lack of any reason whatsoever- a product of him and Tecna- he promptly declared her his saving grace. The name stuck.

Sometimes Morgan thought Gracie was her savior too. Sometimes she wondered- if she wasn't friends with Grace, would she even be a Winx Daughter, as the four girls had come to be called? And if that was the case (or even if it wasn't) the Lupa didn't know how she would get on. Maybe Story would be… no. She liked the fairy of words, with her blonde ponytail and black eyes. But they would never have the strongest of bonds.

The door creaked open suddenly, and a tall girl with a mahogany-chestnut braid peeked in the room. She smiled, and dimples appeared. Combined with her small nose and bright eyes, she looked like an elf, not a fairy. "Hi," Grace said in a sweet and clear voice.

"Hi," Morgan whispered. "Everyone else is already asleep. What's been keeping you?"

The other girl blushed. "Nothing."

"Tell me. You know I can tell when you're lying to me. I know you too well."

"It's just… you know my mother. She didn't find it logical to go through the first-day-of-school crowds, so we waited until ten to come to Magix. And then there was registration. And after that…"

Morgan didn't give Grace the opportunity to finish. She ran over to the girl and almost crushed the Communication fairy's lips with her own. Grace was startled (she always was; it was sort of strange after a year and a half), but she quickly began to kiss back.

Grace ran her slender fingers through Morgan's bob of wild pink curls. And Morgan despaired that her girlfriend's hair was in a braid, else she'd be doing the same. But after about fifteen seconds, the kissing stopped as suddenly as it started, they pulled back, and looked each other in the eyes. The Lupa stroked Grace's soft face (Dragon, everything about her was so soft!) with the back of her own hand. "I missed you."

"We're living in the same apartment now," Grace reminded. "I don't think we'll need to think about missing each other a lot."

But the unspoken worry was how they were going to keep their relationship a secret. Morgan silently cursed her natural trait of standing up for people in need. When Anya and Dafne had declared that neither of them were going to sleep in the same room as a "loser like Story," Morgan had been the one to decide to be a friend to the girl- by giving up sharing a dormitory with Gracie.

So Grace would be with Anya, and Dafne had her own room. Maybe it paid to be the "leader."

Morgan and Grace just looked at each other for a few minutes more, holding hands. Then Grace went to quietly unpack her bags and Morgan headed back to the room she shared with a girl she barely knew, plopped down on her bed, and fell asleep almost immediately.

Meanwhile, Story stared at the ceiling.

She had not been able to get to sleep, barely even been able to close her eyes. In the common room, she could hear Morgan talking to someone- presumably the Tecna? Was Grace her name? She couldn't make out what they were saying, only small noises, some of them very weird.

Even after Morgan snuck back into the room, and Story pretended to be asleep once again, she couldn't get tired enough. Alfea smelled funny, and the noises were still odd, and she had had a rough first day. At least she didn't have high standards for her classes. So anything good that might happen… well, it would be a pleasant surprise.

She cursed her grandmother (not literally. She didn't actually know how to do that.) for wanting her to enter Alfea so bad that she arranged it so she had no tuition to pay from her own wallet, no grief from her witch of a mother, and no birthday presents threatened if she chose another school. Story's grandma was a very important Alfea alumna, but the sixteen year old would have liked to make her first big decision as a high school graduate by herself.

She sighed, turned over, tried to go to sleep again.

* * *

**Character Review:**

**Grace of Zenith, the Tecna: power of communications. Daughter of Tecna and Riven. She is a calming presence to all who meet her. Though she has been in a secret relationship with Morgan for a little over one year and seven months, she is unsure of her sexual orientation.  
**


	3. Practical Powers

**Author's Note: Wow, this is a looooong update. I wrote it in between alternating episodes of Buffy and Roswell, and just being a weirdo. I succeed very well in that career field.**

**Fear will hold you back if you believe in that. - The Hush Sound **

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_Chapter Three: Practical Powers_

Story dressed in a white corduroy jumper with green floral shirt under it. She added her favorite white high tops, then spun around. There was only one more thing to worry about, and that was simple.

She stood in front of the mirror. "Mirror mirror, small and spry. My appearance to change, my appearance to scry. Shake the shadows from my eyes!" she recited. And as she spoke, the darkness disappeared, leaving her looking younger and not half as tired as she actually was.

Morgan glanced over her shoulder. "Nice. A glamour spell."

She was decked out in a pair of tight jeans and a shirt that looked like it had been handed down through a couple people already, but in a cool way. A green shirt and fringed cowgirl vest. She tugged on it. "Think this is a good look for the first day of college?"

"Yes. You look great." Morgan's curls and freckles made a cuteness that balanced the edgy outfit to a tee.

Story and Morgan walked into the apartment, where Anya and Dafne were splitting an onion bagel. They didn't pay any attention to the others, and Story was grateful. But someone was looking at them- a girl with a red-purple braid and a yellow sundress.

She stood quietly, and smiled at the two. "Hi Morgan. Did you sleep well?" she asked.

Morgan grinned. "Yeah. You?"

She nodded. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Story of Romula, my roomie. Story, this is Grace of Zenith. She and I have been friends forever."

"We all have," Dafne said without looking up. "Everyone except for you, Story. Dragon, it must suck being the outcast."

Anya laughed. "Oh, you can't blame her for not being anybody. She's just got weak little powers!"

Grace looked shocked, as if she couldn't comprehend her friends' cruelty. Morgan looked uncomfortable. And Story…

Story looked justifiably ticked. She was. She was very, very ticked. "My powers aren't weak!" she shouted, as she jumped into the air and started to shift into her magical form.

Her clothes melted away, being quickly and gracefully replaced with a frilly Edwardian tutu skirt the creamy color of new parchment. A tank top in a soft red appeared, overlapped by another cream colored garment, a long sleeved cardigan. Story laughed at the beautiful feeling of changing into who she was meant to be as creamy heels manifested on her feet. As they touched ground again, lacy red wings appeared, looking like they could fall apart at the slightest touch. But Story knew they were much, much stronger than that.

She flipped her blonde hair a little, spun around, and posed with her arms out, ready to shoot a spell at Anya. "My powers are not weak," she said again.

Anya's eyes flared for only a minute before she, too rose. It took her less time to transform- did that mean she was more or less powerful than Story? Did it have any effect at all?

Story pondered this as she watched the bouncy brunette bitch cross her arms. A bunch of planets in miniature swirled brutally around her, transforming her designer street clothes into an orange leotard, a flimsy scarf, and matching leg warmers. Ballet shoes the color of the rest of the ensemble were shown off for a split second; then translucent blue heart-shaped wings fluttered on her back. Her dark hair was tied in a large orange hair bow, a high pony that made her look like a high school cheerleader who got lost at a ballet recital after meeting a Fashion Disaster Monster. Or at least, that was Story's opinion.

Anya wasted no time for introductions or threats. She hurled up her hands. "Lunar tick!" she cried as she thrust a small silver glow at Story, who instinctively dodged the attack.

Naturally, as a result, it hit Morgan. "Wo!" she said.

Then she looked confused. "Yhw ma I gnikaeps sdrawkcab?"

Grace set a gentle hand on Morgan's cheek and said a few words that Story didn't catch. It was an odd exchange, she thought, even if it was just spell reversal.

Morgan, having recovered normal speech, raised her hands up. "Guys, stop! We have class in half an hour. If you have to fight, do it after last period and don't do it around me or Grace, please!"

Anya glared, then waved a hand and let her civilian appearance reappear. Story waited a second before she did the same.

"Good," Morgan said. "Now, let's head to class before we're late on our first day. Griselda can be a bitch, so my mom says."

Dafne and Anya headed off in one direction, going down the back stairs that led to the another hallway of dorms. Grace, Morgan, and Story, however, went through to the main staircase. "What have you got first period?" Story asked the other two fairies.

"Metamorphasymbiosis with Wizgiz," Morgan replied dryly. "I hate that subject. I was in Pre-Transfig in high school, and I swear it killed off a little part of my soul."

Grace laid her head on Morgan's shoulder sympathetically. "Luck luck. I've got Etiquette."

Morgan's face crumpled, confused. "Okay, if there is a person in this school who doesn't need that class, it's you Gracie. Dragon, talk about an easy A. What about you, Story?"

"Magiphilosophy," Story sighed. "Crap. I was hoping I had classes with one of you at least."

Morgan smiled at Story, her mouth a little lopsided. "Hey, there are four more periods in the day after this. Maybe we'll see each other then."

"So true." Story looked at her schedule, then to the corridor of doors. Her eyes finally found the Magiphilosophy room, and she sighed. "Well. I'll see you in some class or another, and if not, back in the dorm later."

"Bye," Grace and Morgan said in unison.

The fairy of words walked into her first class, and sat down at a desk in the back row. She reached into the pocket of her jumper, then, and pulled out a small gold locket. It wasn't something particularly special. Her grandmother had given it to her to help train the powers she had possessed since she was eleven. She set the necklace on the desk and said "Levitate."

The necklace started to float. Story smiled. It was a simple skill, but useful- her ability to do simple tasks with only a word, not even a spell.

It wasn't something that was easy control, though… it wasn't like she could say "stop," and the locket would drop. She could say "stop" and it would be impossible to move the necklace, or impossible to move anything except the necklace. It might turn it into a stop sign, or do a thousand different things that hadn't already happened to it. The locket had been through a lot of things, and it was almost a game. Accomplish the goal using only one word at a time.

The teacher, a handsome older man, walked in, and Story concentrated on the locket. "Fall," she commanded.

A breeze immediately kicked up around her desk, and small colored leaves fell from the locket. Story sighed, and quickly ran through her vocabulary, trying to find a word to revert what she did… hey, maybe that's it, she thought. "Revert," she said aloud.

The necklace fell from the air, and the small bubble of autumn weather subsided. "I need to remember that one," she muttered.

The professor glanced towards her and nodded as if he approved. Story blushed a little bit. She wasn't trying to show off, she had just been bored.

He sat down on the desk, very suave. "Welcome class. I am Professor Avalon, and if you aren't in first year Magiphilosophy, you're in the wrong place. Anyone?"

Nobody said a word, nobody got up and left. Avalon looked pleased. "Good," he said. "Now that we're sure we're all in the right place, we can get on with class. You'll find the syllabus on your desk." He waved a hand.

Story looked down. Sure enough, syllabus. Magic was so cool.

"Now on the first page, you'll find the four main units. We'll be covering one each term. First we'll be concentrating on the Law of Return, which you may know as the Threefold Rule, karma, or something of that effect. When we finish that section, we'll move on to personal empowerment, including self-fulfilling prophecies."

"That should cover our first semester. When you return from the Winter Break, we'll cover the morality of different spells, and then each of you will pick a subject of your own to research for your final paper. Clear?"

"Clear," came the halfhearted answer of twenty freshmen fairies.

But Story was pretty psyched. As a fairy of words, there was not much she liked more than learning. And since there was no actual power used in this class, there was no way it could get out of control.

Avalon jumped right in, passing out textbooks and having the students quietly reading the introduction. There were naturally a few grumbles, but Story was psyched. It seemed to be an interesting course, and for a second she wondered why nobody seemed to be enjoying it.

Then she had the realization. She was the smart girl, the princess of the written word, and if she wasn't she likely would not understand a letter of the preface. Hmm. Maybe she could make an extra couple of bucks tutoring the others.

The bell rang, and Story looked at her schedule. Advanced Placement Spell Books and Composition. No question about it, Grandma had a hand in her scheduling process. AP Spells and Comp was a junior class, mostly. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and looked back on her schedule for the room number.

"Ouch!" said a shrill voice.

Story heard the word before she felt the impact. When she looked up from her schedule, Dafne stood staring at her. "Freak," the Fira said. "Can't look up from your little words for a second to watch where you're going. Dragon, so your power is lame and it rules your life."

Story stared at Dafne, knowing she would pay for what she was about to do later. "Suspend," she said calmly as she tapped into her Winx. "Freeze" was the traditional word for what she wanted the mean girl to do- but last time she had tried to use that particular phrase, it had caused understandable storming. And as much as she already didn't like the princess of Eraklyon, she couldn't wish ice on a fairy of fire without feeling the worst sort of guilt.

Dafne moved forward, but she hadn't taken two steps before Griselda popped out from a corner. "Fira of Eraklyon!" she exclaimed. "Were you about to attack that girl?"

"No, professor, I swear, she spelled me…"

"She didn't say more than two words to you, how could she have spelled you? Silent magic is the work of seniors. Even an advanced freshman such as Story couldn't tap into the power she would need. I think a day's suspension from your powers would be in order! And I will delight in telling Queen Bloom about her daughter getting into mischief on the first day. What a sad fate for the daughter of a legacy." Despite her 'sadness,' Griselda looked very, very happy to have Dafne by the arm.

The fire princess looked back at Story, her blue eyes like evil sapphires. Story gulped. Yep, she'd been right. She was definitely paying for this later.


	4. Family Ties

**Author's Note: I've got the blues, I've got lifts in my shoes, and I'm scared of the countryside. I can't sleep, cause I see spiders when I close my eyes…**

**That is the creepiest little catchy song ever.

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**

_Chapter Four: Family Ties  
_

Story thought about going after Griselda and explaining. For about five seconds. Then she shrugged and went on with her life. If Dafne wanted to give her grief… well, more grief… than let her. Story was a big girl, she could take care of herself.

She walked to AP Spells and Comp, making a mental note to complain to her grandmother about having the staff of Alfea place her in an advanced junior-level class. Despite what she could do with language, she wasn't the brightest fairy, especially when it came to subjects like Potionology. Being targeted as the smart kid and the dumb kid at the same time was a little more ammo for Anya and Dafne than Story wanted to give them.

She found the classroom and found a list of students and where they were to sit. Her desk was, luckily, a window seat, and she plopped down in it and took out a notebook and some pens. She thought about messing with the locket again, but after whipping up a September storm (however small) in Magiphilosophy, she didn't want to do it again.

DuFour walked in, her long silver hair flowing behind her, and her glasses halfway down her nose. "Advanced Placement Spellbooks and Composition?"

She didn't wait for a response. "Welcome. This class is exclusively for upperclassmen… well, with one exception for this year." She looked at Story. Story, in response, ducked her head and wished that invisibility spells weren't beyond her.

Other than the embarrassment of being the only freshman in the class- and Professor DuFour not letting anyone forget that fact- the class was decent. Nothing to remember. Ironically, Story was sure it wouldn't be her favorite class.

She walked out, headed down the hall. There was one more class before lunch break, and it was just a normal level freshman one. No problemo.

The Botany classroom was set up science-lab style, and Morgan and Grace were already there… with Anya. No Dafne, though, which was definitely a plus. However, it did mean that Anya had an empty seat next to her. Story looked around frantically, only to find only one other empty chair. She practically ran to it. "Can I sit here?" she asked, a bit out of breath.

The other girl at the lab table looked up. She had hair that was black almost to the point of looking blue in the light. It hung long and straight, cutting off at her shoulders exactly. Bangs hid her eyebrows and almost concealed the tops of her eyes as well. Her skin was a caramel and olive color, the olive tints brought out by her green eyes.

She shrugged. "There's nobody stopping you."

The fairy of words smiled and sat down. "I'm Story. Of Romula," she said.

The other girl nodded once, curtly. "Lara of Illusis. Sort of. I guess I'm from Linphea, but I was raised on Illusis. But my power is from Linphea, plants you know… oh screw it, I'm Lara of Linphea."

Story tried not to laugh. Thankfully, she succeeded. "Complicated," she finally said.

"You're telling me," Lara replied, rolling her eyes. "My dad got remarried when I was wee little, so it's not like I remember home or anything. Sometimes I want to, especially when my half-brothers get on my nerves. But mostly, I like Illusis and I don't know any home besides there. So. What's your story?"

"Um, my grandma wanted me to go to Alfea, my mom wanted me to go to CT… she's a witch… my grandma won. It's the first drama we've had in my family for forever. Nothing really to tell."

"Unlucky. I wanted to go to Cloud Tower but my stepmom went their for a year and she refused to let me go. Said my birth mom wouldn't have wanted me to attend either. Plant magic is all fairy and frilly, I guess. I never have heard of a witch who controls plants… but one, haven't met many Linpheans, and two, maybe all the plant powers have oppressive parents like mine."

"Well, I never really wanted to go to Cloud Tower. Really, I didn't even want to go to college but when your grandma takes care of tuition completely, you don't complain," Story joked.

"What's your power?" Lara asked as she tied her dark hair in a ponytail.

"Words."

"Bet you're talkative. People tell me I'm talkative, but you know, I kind of learned to be. Nobody talks in my family. Dad's quiet, Mirta's quiet… that's my stepmom… and Heketoro and Raiden and Helios.- the brothers- are all quiet. Someone's gotta be loud and talkative, or we wouldn't know how to talk at all."

"I'm not very talkative, actually, I kind of just go along with the conversation." Story shrugged apologetically.

Lara sighed. "Ah. Well, then I'm probably being annoying."

"No, not at all." Story was surprised that she meant it. Normally talkative people got on her nerves.

She sort of wondered why class hadn't started yet. But the teacher wasn't even in the classroom. Story got up. "Where are you going, Story?" Lara asked. "No, don't tell me, I AM annoying, you just are to polite to confirm it. That's gotta be it!"

"No, honestly Lara. I just want to go over to see my roommates." She only paused uncertainly for a beat before she tacked on, "Do you want to come?"

The fairy of flowers and plants smiled. "Sure! Thanks!"

The two walked to the other side of the room. "Morgan, Grace?" Story asked uncertainly.

The two were in deep conversation, but immediately looked up when she said their names. "Hey," Story continued. "This is Lara of Linphea. We were wondering if we could hang out with you until class actually started?"

Morgan nodded, and Grace smiled and said, "Of course, Story!"

Story pulled up two chairs, and the girls sat down, crowding around the small lab table. "So, Lara, what apartment are you in?" Morgan asked.

"51. I room with Twila of Popularis… the fairy of emotions and love, can you believe? And the other three girls are Ginny of Hoggar, the fairy of battle, Amber of Isis, fairy of precious metals, and Vivienne of Osiris, fairy of flight. I don't even know how there can be a freaking fairy of flight! It's a little bit redundant, isn't it? But Vivienne says it's a great power, and who am I to tell her she's wrong? Anyways, what about you three?"

"Well," Morgan said, "I room with Story. Grace and Anya- over there next to the girl with blue hair- share, and then there's Dafne who rooms alone. I'm fairy of wild beasts and creatures, Grace is the fairy of communications, Anya is planetary alignment and the solar system, and Dafne is…"

"Fire. Everyone knows about the Fira. Daughter of the legendary Queen Bloom, my dad used to tell me stories about the Winx Club when I was little… hey, wait. Grace… Grace of Zenith? And Anya of Solaria? Oh. My. Dragon. You're, like, their daughters!"

"I'm Roxy's daughter," Morgan muttered.

"Well, yeah, that's cool. But you know, she wasn't involved in the big battle of Alfea twenty years ago, or the revival of Domino… but still, pretty cool. Cooler than me," Lara joked. "Stepdaughter of a witch who uses bright magic, and daughter of a warrior who refuses to fight."

"I think that's really truly cool," Grace inputted. "Defying the stereotypes is what makes people great."

Lara grinned. "Thanks, but I don't think Dad and Mirta think so. I wanted to go to Cloud Tower, but a plant girl has a rep to keep up, huh?"

The group laughed a little.

By the time the bell rang, two things that Story never expected happened: one, she had made friends with a girl who's biggest ambition was to be a powerful witch. And two, the class period went by without the teacher making an appearance.

The four girls walked out of class together. "It's lunch," Morgan said. "We should all grab a table together in the cafeteria."

"Save a seat for me, I've got to go to the office," Story said.

Morgan furrowed her brow. "What's wrong, Story?"

The fairy of words shrugged. "Nothing major. Scheduling. I was put in a class way too advanced for me, I want to see if I can get it changed."

Grace patted her on the back. "No worries, we'll grab a chair for you. Good luck,"

Story broke off from the group and headed to the main office. She knocked on the door to the headmistress's office. "Come in," said Miss Faragonda.

Story opened the door and walked in. "Can I change my schedule, please?" she asked, trying to stay calm.

Faragonda looked a little shocked. "Why, I put you in advanced classes. Why would you want to change?"

"Because I don't want to stand out. I want to just be another Alfea freshman. I know what everyone here thinks about me, being the girl who controls language itself. But… I need to make my own path. Please?"

Faragonda sighed. "I'll see what I can do for you, dear."

Story smiled, rushed up to Faragonda, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks bundles, Grandma."

* * *

**Character Review:**

**Lara of Linphea: fairy of plants and flowers. Daughter of Helia and Flora, stepdaughter of Mirta. Extremely talkative, has a slightly dark personality. Her biggest hope and dream is to be a powerful witch; however, her stepmother made her attend Alfea instead of Cloud Tower. Quickly bonds with Story, Morgan, and Grace.  
**


	5. Meanwhile

**Author's Note: My dreams have been weird lately, which helps in this story… **

**

* * *

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_Chapter Five: Meanwhile_

Claire of Espero walked the halls of her school, trying to find her next class- Basic Offensive Spells. It was a class she hoped would suit her, one that wasn't too much like the rest of the school's crazy subjects. She never wanted to go here, where her looks and her realm and even her name were subject of ridicule.

It was only the first day of college, and already it sucked.

Of course, what more had she expected from Cloud Tower?

She couldn't find the class, maybe because of those damn shifting towers and hallways, so she went to the dorm she shared with Dionne of Whisperia, who was (thank Dragon) probably in some class that she found without incident. Claire took out her cell phone, pushed it underneath her layers of strawberry-colored hair, and called her boyfriend back home.

It rang about three times before he picked up. "Hey, baby," he answered, his voice already calming her. At least until she added, "How's school?"

"Oh, it's totally awesome," she lied. "I made some serious waves in my potions class," _They weren't exactly popular, but I made them, _she tacked on in her head. "And hexes was really fun!" _For everyone except me. Glad the teacher took away the donkey ears at the end of the class… _"Plus, you should have seen the lunch. Everyone wanted to sit at my table!" _After they kicked me out of the cafeteria and forced me to eat in the archives._

"I knew you'd like it there," Rei said, sounding self-satisfied. "Much better than that fairy school you wanted to attend, isn't it? See, this is why we should get married when you're out of school. I make better decisions than you do, you need me. And I love you, Clarissa. You are going by Clarissa, aren't you? Your real name sounds so…"

"Fairy-tale, I know. But, um, Zarathustra called me out on it. Claire of Espero… the witch of dreams."

"The witch of nightmares, Claire," Rei chided.

"Yep," she sighed, hoping she could somehow get the courage she needed to break up with him. "Claire, the witch of nightmares."

* * *

Dafne stared gloomily at the wall as she waited for Faragonda to call her in. She had already spent an hour with Griselda, being yelled at for "how much of a disappointment" she was to her mother.

She wanted to scream. How in the Shadowhaunt could she ever live up to her perfect mother? How many times had Mom saved the universe again? Psyche, guess what, Dafne didn't care. She'd never save the world. For one, her mom was still in the "biz," still rescuing the helpless with her awesome Dragon's Flame that Dafne didn't get. She told everyone she did, but she only had normal fire.

The girl fidgeted a little in her seat, tucking her skirt in a little bit. She may have been a disappointment to her mother already, just for being a weak, normal fairy, someone who would never be remembered as one of the great Guardian Fairies (it was why she was taking up the mantle of Eraklyon and not Domino). But she was not a liar.

Story had spelled her. One. Single. Word. And that loser fairy upstart who was more pathetic than she was had spelled the daughter of the most powerful woman in existence.

Dafne was going to learn that trick, and she was going to learn it soon. Or Story of Romula was going to pay very, very dearly.

* * *

Rainier of Melody was taking notes like a madwoman.

Her moms had almost not been able to send her away to college, and she knew that it would seriously help them out if she could get a scholarship for the next semester. It also might help if her deadbeat daddy would send in child support once in a while, but Mama (her step mother as opposed to Mom, her birth mother) always told her not to complain because if he didn't send in support, she didn't ever have to go see him.

A little part of Rainier wanted to. She looked mainly like her mom, she got her air powers from her mom, and she got her name from her mom honoring her mama. But there were the little twinges of things that she was curious about- her dark, dark purple hair that she kept up in a high ponytail, and her less-slanted eyes. She knew he had a family… she had a real, non-adopted sister (okay, okay, half-sister) and a little half-brother.

But Mom said he was a deadbeat, they hadn't even gotten along when they were married, that it was almost a relief when he cheated on her with her own best friend. Mama told her he would never understand the mission that they all had, the reason she was going to school in the first place.

Rainier had to become the top of the class at Cloud Tower, had to master the hexes and the levels of evil. She had to help purify this universe with her moms and her sisters… to get rid of all the people who would abandon their daughters, and any other deadbeats in this world.

* * *

Story walked into the cafeteria and found Morgan, Grace, and Lara at a table in the middle of the room. "Hey, guys," she said.

"Hey, Story," Morgan replied. "You get your schedule changed?"

"Yep." After some discussion with her grandmother, Story had managed to get into freshman-level everything. Everything except Spells and Comp. But it was a compromise. "I'm good now, for the most part."

"Cool, I'm glad. Oh, before I forget, you missed an announcement. Griselda said that because it was the first day, classes were cancelled for the rest of the day. Weird, huh?"

"Why's it weird?" Lara asked between bites of sandwich. "Maybe it's a usual thing. You know, save the sanity of the students."

"It's weird because they didn't do it last year, it's not on the schedule, and it might just have something to do with the Teacher that Wasn't last period," Morgan answered, leaning over the table and motioning the others in. "I'm a huge fan of mysteries, and let me tell you- this is screaming sinister."

"She can find something sinister in anything," Grace commented.

"Grace!"

"It's true. It's why I told you to leave your Nancy Drew collection at home."

"But honestly, doesn't this seem weird to anyone else? Maybe the professor was kidnapped by some evil syndicate."

"Maybe the professor got sick," Grace said firmly. "Now, lets stop with the paranoia and think about what we're going to do with our afternoon off."

"What about walking around Magix? I heard there are some great cafes and boutiques and even this awesome mini-golf place… we could all go together, check out the nightlife, and the early-afternoon-life, it'd be awesome!" Lara looked expectantly at everyone as she suggested the outing.

Morgan shrugged. "Well, it sounds pretty fun. Why not?"

"Yes!"

"What's the uber-excitement about?"

Lara smiled. "I don't like Alfea so far, it seriously sucks. But I never expected to already have two relatively-non-frilly friends… and Grace… who were okay with me by the end of the first day. I'm just a little happy for it, that's all."

Grace frowned, not sure whether that was insult or compliment, and Morgan smiled. "Hey. What are freaks for?" she asked as the new group got up to leave.

* * *

**Character Review:**

**Claire of Espero: the witch of dreams. Her boyfriend made her choose Cloud Tower over Alfea, threatening to break up with her if she became a fairy. She doesn't fit in at Cloud Tower and is very uncomfortable with reinventing herself as a witch.**

**Rainier of Melody: the witch of air. Daughter of Musa and Riven, has an unknown stepmother. Her mother is gay and has a grudge against Riven that goes far beyond the norm.**


	6. There's No Such Thing As Coincidence

**Author's Not****e: I was translating the name of the song "Amiche Per La Pelle," on Google Translate, only I made a mistake and changed the "la" to "le." That ONE MISTAKE changed the name from "Sorority Girls" to "Friendly To The Skin." I'm cracking up.**

**Yay for short chapters!  
**

* * *

_Chapter Six: There's No Such Thing As Coincidence_

The group walked the streets of Magix (after waiting an hour for the taxi to come and paying about half their spending money on that and a promised return trip. They could have waited for the busses, but they didn't come for another three hours, until the school day was officially over). Grace and Morgan were holding hands in a way that made Story question their relationship (and ponder whether or not it was too soon to grill Morgan about it once they were back in the dorm).

Story had always had a theory that you could tell the most about someone by the way they shopped. Grace always rushed into the frilly boutiques that lined the streets of Magix, and by the time an hour was up, she had a big bag full of dresses, and skirts and blouses, mainly in the color purple. "It's my best color," she explained. "Even my magic form is purple."

Morgan, on the other hand, looked very impatient at every stop they made for clothing. She didn't spend a dime at any store, though she had seemed interested in a cell phone.

Lara was an eater, rather, a drinker. When they passed the Hex Café, she was the first to go up to the counter and demand a latte (while the other three girls stood uncomfortably outside). When they passed a pizza place on the corner of Main Street and Roccaluce Way, she grabbed a cola.

It was because of the differences in their shopping experiences that they decided to split up, then meet up back at the bus stop after two hours or so and grab a bite to eat before calling the taxi to take them back to Alfea.

Morgan thought about going with Grace, so they could have the private time that they barely ever did- time when they could be a couple, instead of just a couple of friends. But she recognized that one, that would look awfully suspicious (as the girls now knew she hated to shop while it was one of Grace's most beloved passtimes), and two, she could probably catch a screening of that new musical, the one with Layla of Andros in it. No matter what the tabloids said about the interrealm superstar (inherent evil, secretly royalty, used to be one of the Winx, playing some common specialist named Jared, then going out with some prince or another), Morgan really, really loved Layla. She was an idol, not to mention a girl to look up to. Someone who had went places.

She paid a few bucks for a ticket and a bucket of chocolate popcorn (wishing they had it at theaters on Earth).

An hour and forty five minutes later, Morgan stood outside, adjusting her eyes to the brightness. The movie had been every bit what she expected, and…

Her train of thought was interrupted as long, familiar dark mahogany hair swirled by her. "Grace?" Morgan murmured.

Grace didn't turn around, and an idea formulated in the Lupa's head. She would go up to her girlfriend, and surprise her. More than usual.

As quietly as she could run, Morgan trailed Grace for about two blocks before she was able to grab her girlfriend on the shoulders, spin her around, and tenderly kiss her cheek, before leaning back and realizing… that it wasn't… actually…. Grace.

She felt her face grow hot and red. The girl definitely looked like Grace. Same color hair, same length. Same pale skin. But the eyes were slightly slanted, and darker. She was a little bit shorter, and a little more petite. And her voice was higher, sharper, when she said, "Who the fuck are you?"

"Umm, sorry," Morgan said as she started to slowly back away. "I thought you were somebody else."

"No shit. But I asked you a question. Who are you?"

"Morgan, of Earth. Okay? Who are you?"

The girl scowled. "I'm Rainier of Melody. I'm a freshman at Cloud Tower."

"That explains it," Morgan said beneath her breath,

"What's it explain, why you kissed me? Alfea girls. I always knew anyone who would go to a school that was that pink had to be gay or demented. You just proved me right on both accounts." Rainier smirked, and it was like looking at a twisted version of Grace. It hurt.

"Well, Cloud Tower girls," Morgan said, trying desperately to come up with a comeback, "wear too much black."

Rainier coughed and looked at her own outfit pointedly. Oh. She was wearing a faded tee shirt for "Werewolves of Isis," Morgan's favorite band, and some pretty cool cuffed jeans that looked obviously vintage. Neon purple high tops completed the ensemble.

Morgan was actually really, really jealous of the outfit. Which might have had something to do with the fact that she looked liked "Fairy of Them Cowpokes." She also felt like an idiot, which might have had something to with the fact that, though she loved Grace to pieces, her girlfriend would never wear an outfit that totally wickedly awesome.

"Morgan?" a voice asked from behind. She turned.

Well, think of the Phoenix, she thought. It's Grace.

Morgan rushed over, and kissed Grace on the lips quickly. "Let's get out of here and find Lara and Story," she said.

Rainier sighed. "Oh, going so soon? With your little girlfriend who looks like my fucking doppelganger. What's your name, you little hottie?"

Grace scowled, but was, being Grace, incapable of being impolite. "Miss Grace of Zenith," she said, as hotly as she possibly could.

Rainier's jaw dropped. "No shit?" she said. "My little sister Gracie of Zenith? I'm Rainier of Melody, your big sis… oh, half-sister technically, but what's terminology within family? I mean, we've never even met, and we've gone through hell together… your mommy stealing my daddy and all that."

Grace frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't have an older sister. I'm the eldest. You must have me confused for some other Grace of Zenith."

"Two things wrong with that statement, hun. First, the name registry doesn't allow two unrelated people to have the same name, remember, or two people in certain age groups. Any other Grace of Zenith would have to be, like, eighty, and your grandma or something. And second, you look exactly. Fucking. Like me."

Morgan took hold of Grace. "We're going," she said firmly. "Shove off, witch."

"Sure, gay patrol," Rainier said, turning in her absolutely adorable jeans (that made her butt look wicked, as Morgan tried not to notice). "But hey, we'll meet up again soon, right? After all, we're all family. Or at least, Morganita, I'm your evil in-law."

Rainier waved, and looked almost like you'd expect a fairy to look. "See ya later!" she said in her high voice.

Any passerby probably thought they were school friends at Alfea. How come witches couldn't look evil, Morgan wondered. Where did the Great Dragon put the universe's justice?


	7. Brightly

**Author's Note: This chapter contains a few small jabs at the general 2nd generation writerbase. Please, please don't kill me.

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_Chapter Seven: Brightly _

School had been out for hours when she was called to the office, that was how she knew she was in some really deep trouble.

Claire sighed, rose out of her bed, and changed from her red flannel pajamas into a royal purple baby doll dress that was one of the few things she had in her closet that Rei thought was Cloud Tower appropriate. She slipped on her black flats and headed out to meet Headmistress Griffin in her office.

She was worried about getting lost, but apparently since she was in trouble, the school contorted itself in such a way that getting from her dungeon-level dorm to the main office took about a minute. Claire sighed. Why couldn't they put magic that powerful and, okay, cool to use doing something like building prisons? The Omega Dimension was supposed to be all creepy and evil, but hello! There had been seven breakouts in this century alone!

The door opened as she lifted her well-manicured hand to knock, and Griffin looked down at her. "Why hello," she said. "Come in."

Claire did, even when she wanted to curl up into a little ball. "Sit down," Griffin encouraged, then paused before adding, "And for Dragon's sake will you stop looking that nervous?"

"I'm… sorry." Claire looked down meekly and brushed the dark red waves out of her face.

Griffin rolled her eyes. "I can see I was right to call you in here. I'm going to venture and say that Cloud Tower wasn't your first choice. What was it- parental pressure? Darker forces working in your life? The price tag?"

"A boy," she whispered.

"The classic." The headmistress stood. "Claire, when I reviewed your application, I flagged you as a potential 'pressure entrant.' However… have you seen the scores of your magic preexamination?"

"No."

She handed Claire a piece of heavy cardstock paper. "An important part in the difference between fairy magic and witch magic is how you channel it. Your power, your personality, your… hair… they all scream fairy in a way that makes me want to label you a disappointment and send you to the bottom classes. However, you channel like a real witch- and your power is at the top of the charts. Almost off of it."

Her nearly-clawed hand slammed onto the desk. "Claire, we want you here at the Cloud Tower School. And I believe I have an idea that will satisfy both of us."

"What?" Claire asked, mainly because she was probably expected to. She was having a little trouble keeping up with the headmistress. Because there was no way she could be powerful enough for Griffin to be practically begging her to remain at the school.

But Griffin didn't see that. "Earth witchcraft. Not something I'd normally teach… but it may be the right fit for you. Frilly as fairy magic, but it's a lot more practical. And it doesn't involve any wings." She shuddered. "Whatever happened to good, old fashioned levitation, I'll never know."

Claire shuffled her feet. "What's that mean for me?"

"Private lessons, Miss Claire. Instead of going to your scheduled classes, you will report to the office next to this one. We will start tomorrow."

"Do I get to cancel out on my roommate, too?" the suddenly happier witch-in-training asked eagerly.

"No," Griffin replied.

* * *

Grace was in tears by the time they met up with Story and Lara at the restaurant. "I don't have a sister! I can't! It's not possible!" She took a deep, shaky breath. "My name is Grace of Zenith. My Earth name is Grace Ramona Smith, but I only go by that during summers- which I've spent without fail on Earth with Morgan and the rest of her family while my parents, Tecna and Riven of Zenith, do humanitarian work on less fortunate planets."

Lara looked confused. "Is Grace having a meltdown? Cause I don't remember that being in the friendship contract."

"We met someone who looked almost exactly like her," Morgan summarized… leaving out the kissing bits. "Her name is Rainier of Melody, she goes to Cloud Tower, and- get this- she claims that Grace is her younger sister."

Grace was still going on. "I am sixteen years old, I am a commoner. I am the next guardian fairy of Zenith. I am in love with Morgan Nebula Day."

Morgan gaped. Lara gaped. Story said, "I knew it!"

Morgan turned to her roomie. "How did you know…?"

"Oh, it's pretty much the way you look at each other, talk about each other, the way you have your arm around her right now. Don't worry. I'm really observant, I'm a writer, I sort of have to be. I don't think anyone else noticed it."

"I didn't," Lara offered.

"Don't worry, Morgan. We won't tell until you're ready to let it out."

Morgan smiled a teeny bit. "You may be waiting a while. You're both totally cool with this? For sure?"

"Well, this is just the Wicca Wannabe speaking," Lara said jokingly, "but I think it's completely and utterly romantic. Now, let's focus on that later. For now, what do we do about Grace?"

"Let's get some food into her. From there… maybe we could find some information about this girl?" Story frowned. "Really, I have no clue."

Morgan kissed Grace.

When she pulled back, Grace was still a little hyper, but for a different reason. "Wow," she said. "In front of people we know and everything. You really do care about me."

Morgan frowned. "Was that in question, because you never told me it was?"

"No… it's just… never mind. What do we do about this Rainier girl?"

The fairy of communications wiped the last of the tears from her eyes. "Leave it to me. Anyone have a cell phone?"

Story dug a small, circular pod out of her pocket. She touched the center, and a holigram expanded like a map unfolding. "What do you need it for?" she asked curiously.

"I can hack into the network from it and access the Cloud Tower archives, now that they've went digital with them. It's really all a matter of finding out who accessed them last and what password they used and all that. Your phone connects to the witch wide web, right, Story?"

Lara whistled. "Never pegged Gracie as a geek?"

"It's in my blood," the girl smiled. "My power goes more into the social aspect of technology, though. I interned at Fairybook last year, you know."

"Do you roleplay?" Lara asked.

Grace blushed. "Only with Morgan."

"I didn't mean that sort of roleplay," Lara snickered, biting her lower lip to keep from laughing.

Morgan sighed. "She didn't either. She's kind of self-conscious about her writing. I'm really the only one allowed to see it." Grace nodded agreement, still red as a tomato.

Then, she turned to the phone, and got to work. Within five minutes, she had connected, and the group had gathered around the small device. A little bit too dramatically, Morgan typed in "Rainier of Melody." The search results came quickly and a little bit overwhelmingly.

_Magic name: Rainier of Melody_

_Earth name: Rainier Cadence Malison_

_Age: 17_

_Occupation: Student witch._

"Okay," Lara commented. "I'm sure we've learned some stuff, but this isn't a baseball card."

Story laughed. Morgan looked at her like she was crazy. "What's so funny?"

"Malison is another word for curse," Story giggled. "It just seems, I dunno, ironic that a witch would have that as her Earth name. It's not exactly a word you use in everyday conversation or anything. It's olde. With an 'e' and everything."

"And we have two geeks in the club," Lara said, rolling her eyes.

Grace was busy tapping something out on the phone's holographic keyboard. "What do we want to know? GPA? Childhood traumas? Criminal record?"

"Let's see if she's really related to you before we do anything else," Morgan advised.

"Okay… but… maybe you should look. I don't know if I can do it."

Morgan took the phone and scrolled through the information. A long moment passed. Then, "Grace… don't freak… but can I have permission to murder your sister?"

Grace drew in a sharp breath, and Story gave her a quick hug. "Don't worry. We'll figure this out."

"I don't get it," Grace said. "I mean, you'd think I'd know I had a sister… and, no offense, or anything, but why do you and Lara care? We just met you today…"

"Story and I met yesterday," Morgan inputted.

"And we're already almost like best friends. It's so… improbable."

Lara sighed. "There goes beauty-is-a-geek again. And while I don't exactly know the answer to your question or anything, it just sort of feels right, you know? Maybe we're, like, part of a prophecy or something."

"I second that," Story said. "This feels right. Weird, cause I assume you don't normally bear your soul and bawl your eyes out to people you've known for eight hours only, but… yeah, it feels like it's meant to be."

"It's the Winx Club all over again," Morgan grinned.

"The Winx Daughters," Grace corrected.

Morgan shook her head. "Anya and Dafne coined that phrase. And while I love them… in a special, angry way… I don't think we'll be really spending that much time with them outside the dorm. We need a new name. A new group. A new beginning."

"It's a renaissance," Story said. "Now, let's think on this later. Right now, we've got an expedition to plan."

"What expedition?" Lara asked.

"A top secret one, one that puts us in the footsteps of the Winx and could possibly get us suspended. We're going to break into Cloud Tower School, because, online archives or not, that's the place that's going to hold all the answers… or, at least, most of them."

Story raised her water glass. "To the yet unnamed group of friends!"

And three other fairies followed suit.


	8. Before Alfea: Morgan

**Author's Note: This chapter is first in a series of a sideplot. Hope you enjoy!**

_Chapter Eight: Before Alfea: Morgan_

Morgan Nebula Day was fourteen years old, five feet tall, freckled, had hair in a little pink ponytail, and couldn't lift more than two bags at a time when her family went grocery shopping. And even that was a little much for her.

When the men came at her, ready to attack, they never stood a chance.

Within five seconds, she mentally called to Chelsa and Brandhilie, who then began to run towards her. With luck, they wouldn't run into trouble on the way. The pair was rather large, and could seem pretty scary if you didn't know them, and/or if you tried to attack Morgan.

Then, she put out her hands and channeled as much energy as she could towards the men, hoping it would burn. Badly.

Morgan was _magica, _a humanoid species with the power to channel energy into other things- depending on whether they chose the path of a fairy, witch, or specialist. They all had base abilities too, such as telepathic waves and energy balls. Morgan wasn't the most powerful _magica_ ever, after two generations of human-_magica_ marriages the blood was diluted. The power of mind and body had weakened into the power of animals, and then further so into power of only the wild, untamable beasts.

Two of which were coming right at the men. Morgan smiled, and dimples formed. For all the world she looked like a fifth-grader watching SpongeBob SquarePants, not a high school freshman who had just set two wild wolves on a group of potential kidnappers.

Chelsa, the girl, and Brandhilie, the boy, made quick work of three of the group. But Morgan called them off when they got to the fourth and last (though he had already sustained some heavy damages, he had escaped most of the serious, but not fatal, injuries that knocked out the rest of the gang). "Okay, dude, what's your damage?"

"Several bites to the arm, I think my leg is broken, my head hurts and…"

"No," she said, crossing her small arms across her even smaller chest. "Why were you and your thugs after me? Was I just some lucky target? Or do you have a reason?"

"You will be the Lupa," he moaned.

Morgan blinked. Right family, wrong girl. Though she was descended from old _magica _royalty… the last in her family line being her grandmother, until she abdicated…. It wasn't her that would inherit the Lupa mantle, the Guardian Fairy title. It was her older sister Andrea who had that honor. "You don't know what you're talking about," she said flatly before sending an energy ball into his face, knocking him unconscious.

She walked a few blocks over to her friend Snake's house. Snake's real name was Isabelle, the "s" like a "hiss," not a "z." That was exactly how she had introduced herself to Morgan, and how she had earned the fierce nickname. Snake was tall (actually, average height, but to Morgan everyone seemed tall), with hair in eternal brunette cornrows that made her ghostly skin seem fierce, vampiric. She was sweet, but stubborn, she was two years older. Morgan couldn't get Snake out of her head.

Chelsa and Brandhilie were still following, silent paws treading the pavement. Though Snake had met the two before, and was not scared of them, Morgan let the two go anyway. They sent back an emotion of love- Morgan could make animals talk, but it was not and would never be their best language, not compared to pure emotion. And then they left, leaving her alone once more.

She found 244 Peters Street- Snake's address- and rang the doorbell. Snake answered. "Hey, girly!" she said, giving Morgan a hug. "I'm glad you could come."

"I'm glad I didn't get kidnapped on the way here," Morgan said.

Snake raised an eyebrow. "Why? What happened?"

"Oh, you know. Four losers. Said I was going to be the Lupa, that's why they wanted me. I'm not even going to Alfea, I'm going to Cloud Tower like you suggested. And that's not for almost two more years."

"Weird. I take it you kicked their asses?"

"Yeah, with a little help from the wolves."

"I'm glad you're okay," Snake said. "Don't let it bug you. As you said, they're losers. And you can ruin them without messing up so much as one hair. They don't know what they're talking about."

"I can't not think about it. Did they just confuse me and Andrea?" She scoffed. "Hard to do. Andie looks her age."

"I was in her class before she graduated early, remember? She looks older than her age, like eighteen or nineteen. And nothing like you. Not nearly as gorgeous. Very mundane."

Morgan laughed. "_I'm _the one who's more human than _magica_? And you think Andie is mundane?"

"Sure, she has more magic. But yeah. Black hair, blue eyes, she's pretty but not incredible. You've got the exotic features that I'd die for." Snake looked deep into Morgan's amber eyes. "You're so special, Mor. Never, ever forget that."

And then Snake leaned in close and kissed Morgan, and the _magica_ realized that this was what she had wanted all along.

* * *

Two girls sat in their Alfea dorm, hours after they and their two friends had arrived back at the school.

"We broke up later, nine months later after Grace arrived for the summer. Snake wasn't the first person I had felt that way about, that was Grace. I had never acted on it though. I didn't really understand what it meant. But I did then, and I couldn't go on with Snake. She was going to college in a year anyway. It had to happen sometimes," Morgan said.

Story bit her lip. "How did you end up becoming the Lupa in training?"

"Andrea decide to attend Cloud Tower. And I decided to go to Alfea because that's where Grace was going, indisputably."

"Are you happy here so far?"

Morgan pondered. "I don't know," she said at last.


	9. The Breakfast Club

**Author's Note:** It's a short chapter, but it gets the point across and cures me of incredible writer's block I have been experiencing with Legacy of Light.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Breakfast Club**

The next morning, Story awoke earlier than the others, slipped on a sweatskirt and fluffy blue hoodie, and got bored.

It was 6 AM. Classes weren't until 7:30, so normally she would roll out of bed at 7, throw on some random outfit, and grab a granola bar. Today, she scribbled a note (using her powers, naturally) to Morgan and Grace, letting the couple know she'd be at breakfast if they wanted to meet her there.

When she entered the grand dining hall, about seven students were scattered at four main tables. Most girls were either still sleeping, or had opted for a bagel in their dorm. One blue-haired fairy was twirling her fork in a plate of eggs and saying, "Seriously? I could make better scrambled than this!"

Which would have been normal, except that the fairy next to her commented, "That's because you're the fairy of domestic arts, Tzatziki."

Story took a stack of pancakes and sat down, chewing slowly. She managed to finish by the time Morgan and Grace sat down across from her, holding hands discreetly. "Morning," Morgan said sleepily as she placed down a plate of waffles with her free hand.

Grace smiled, looking much more awake than her girlfriend. "How did you sleep, Story?"

"Decently." Story had had a relatively bad dream- no nightmare status, she hadn't woke up screaming. But she could vaguely remember her dream-self ripping at her own earlobes, mutilating them. Until a voice called for her to stop. She shivered a little. Luckily, she wasn't good at remembering dreams, and the disturbing images were fading fast. "And you?" she prompted.

"Fine. I'm still a little tired from last night, though." She yawned, emphasizing her words.

Story grabbed a quick glass of orange juice and sipped at it as the other two ate in silence. When Morgan got some waffles and coffee into her system, she asked, "So, we have a plan for sneaking into Cloud Tower?"

"Yes, and the plan is not yet," Grace said. "We're waiting for a new moon… when witches are least powerful… and it's first quarter now."

"Good plan," Story noted. "I wouldn't get caught dead in Cloud Tower during any other phase. Although, come to think of it, I probably would. Get caught. And then be dead."

"Very eloquent, Miss Fairy of Words," a voice from behind Story joked. The fumbling fairy turned to see Lara, her black hair tied with multicolored ribbons, and a sarcastic smile playing on her face. She slid into the chair nest to Story. "Relatively decent morning, everyone."

"Relatively decent morning to you as well," said Morgan. "We were just discussing our criminal tendencies. Do you have anything else, Grace?"

"Well… we're going to need to harness everybody's skills. First, I'm going to act as a 'friendly' data entity and try to break into CT's magitechnical defense systems. That should stop anything that isn't alive… but Morgan is going to have to cause a distraction somewhere on campus. Do witches still have black cats?"

"Even if they did, I can't help you there. Fairy of WILD animals only. Sorry." Morgan brightened. "But maybe I could summon Brandhilie and Chelsa, lead any witches on a wild wolf chase until we're off campus. Bonus points because who's gonna suspect that a fairy would send wolves out to do her dirty deeds?"

Grace shivered. "Keep them away from me and I'm all for it. Now Lara, I don't know the extent of your powers, but I think you're gonna be our way in if you can handle it. Have any plants that can crush stone?"

A smile crept onto Lara's face like vine creeping on a building… which, by chance, was exactly what she was thinking of. "I don't know, but Dragon, it'll be fun to find out."

There was a pause before Story cleared her throat. "Um, what do I do?"

Grace "hmmm"ed. "Well, like with Lara, I don't know what you can do, besides go all transformy-like. I love your wings, by the way. They're gorgeous. But with Lara, she's got a common power, where I have never ever seen a fairy of words before. I don't know what you could do."

Story took off her locket and set it on the table. Her three friends looked confused… what did jewelry have to do with power? "Levitate," she said, and the locket obeyed.

The group looked rather unimpressed. Levitating wasn't that hot of a trick once you were sixteen, but Story smiled. "Spin," she said, and the locket turned around quickly, over and over again like a heart-shaped top. "Flash." The locket became a miniature disco ball, lights playing off it and reflecting on the girls' faces. "Grow." And it was a normal disco ball. Girls from all over the room put down their forks and spoons, staring at the flashy display.

Story grinned as her power rushed through her. "Aaaaannnd, revert."

The locket clanged on the table, normal sized and looking like nothing out of the ordinary. The hall had a moment of complete silence before chatter started up again. She could hear some people being excited… freshman wondering how to do that. The upperclassmen seemed to be less happy, more than one muttering something about "freaks."

Lara's eyes were wide with appreciation. "That was some wicked cool magic. So, your power is casting spells without going through the whole process? Just, like, one word instead?"

Story looked down modestly. "Yeah," she admitted softly. "And I also can channel things through words and poetry and stuff. Like, prophecies. It's incredibly hard to control, though, words can have many meanings and they don't always go by the meaning I like. Those words, though, I've used before. They're pretty reliable."

Biting her lip a little, Grace thought. "Could you possibly send someone to sleep? Like, say 'sleep' or 'slumber' or something?"

"Slumber might be best. I could do that. If I say sleep, it could work, or it could shut down the entire system at Cloud Tower and both undo what you've done and alert them to our presence."

Grace nodded and grinned. "Okay, you're our emergency backup plan. If for some reason Morgan and I can't get rid of the witches, you're going to send them to beddy-by. Got it?"

"Good plan."

The bell rang for students to report to their classes, and the girls got up. "See you later"s went all around, and the still-nameless club split up.


	10. Dance With The Devils

**Chapter Ten: Dance With The Devil(s)**

"Though generally attributed to witches, many fairies have adapted the viewpoint of the law of return. In other words, that's the idea that whatever you do- good or bad- comes back to you three times. Now it may not be in the same form. You could, for instance, hold a door open for someone, but maybe instead of having a door held for you three times, instead you get, oh, I don't know," mused Professor Avalon, "a puppy, maybe?"

Story smiled and took down notes, though her mind was only half in the classroom. The other half was thinking about her dream. _Morning glory seeds to stop nightmares,_ she remembered from when she was little and her mother would calm her and cast spells to stop the dreams. It was a witch solution, not a fairy one, but it worked well.

Maybe she belonged at Cloud Tower. It was in her blood. Her grandmother (named, in word-power tradition, Poesia, Faragonda being like the guardian fairy titles) was technically a witch, but practiced a unique mix of the two types of magic. She never transformed or anything, and her magic was rather frightful, but she didn't use it for evil. And her mother Fable was a full-fledged witch, though she had studied at home rather than in the dark school.

But she was a blonde. And she liked ponies and bunnies and stuff. Story was tough and had incredible power (and she knew it), but the witches would chew her up and spit her out like a shadow demon eating a pixie.

"Some of you seem doubtful. 'How could this apply to us?' you ask. 'How could it apply at all?' 'If witches believe this, why are they, well, witches?' Remember- this is philosophy, not fact. Treat it as such."

Avalon smiled. "That said, I believe it. Think of it this way. If you short sheet the girls in the dorm, you'll likely get three very angry roommates bent on vengeance, and maybe one forgiving one. They'll give you three times what you gave them. But if you make breakfast for the girls in your dorm, you'll get three willing to do you a favor, and that damn neutral one again who doesn't seem to care about her bedding or her breakfast. She's probably emo or something."

The girls laughed for a second, and Avalon continued. 'Your homework is to do something and see if it really does affect you threefold. Record your actions today, by memory or on paper. And tomorrow, we'll see who gets their just desserts- whether they be a smooshed cockroach cupcake, or creme brulee."

* * *

Claire wrung her hands nervously as she waited for instruction. It was just her in the small office, unless you counted the furniture. Then it was her, a desk, black walls, and some very gloomy candles that seemed to be deciding whether or not they would stay lit. The decision looked like it was leaning towards a "no."

"Lampara," said a voice at the doorway. Claire looked up. As she saw who it was, her eyes widened. "No way!" she exclaimed.

The woman smiled. Her pure white hair framed her face, and square glasses perched on her nose. Her face was stern, but caring. "You must be Claire of Espero," she said.

"Yeah," Claire said, almost jumping up and down out of excitement. "And you're Faragonda, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I so wanted to go to Alfea! I had the application filled out and everything and I visited last year but you weren't there. I ended up not applying though... my boyfriend ripped up my app and told me to apply here instead. By the time I could get another, it was too late and you really should do an online application process and I'm babbling, aren't I?"

Faragonda looked a little weirded out, for lack of better term, but smiled and got over it. "Well, from what I hear, your Supernatural Aptitude Test scores were high. Alfea would be proud to have you, and you're welcome to apply for a transfer at the end of the year. Until then... we have some work to do."

"You're seriously going to be working with me? You didn't get the wrong office or something?"

"No, I'll be teaching you on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Alyxa... sorry, Ms. Griffin... called in a favor, but I would have done it anyway. I can't stand in the way of a young, powerful, witch who actually wants to learn the path of goodness." Faragonda winked, pulled up two chairs, sat, and motioned Claire to follow. The girl did.

"First thing we'll be doing is white bubbling. Surrounding yourself with positivity. Now, to do this you pull both from inside yourself, and outside forces. A powerful bubble should be something you see- literally a white bubble. A less powerful one you can only feel. Try it."

Claire pulled her power around her, brought in the energy from the candles, making them flicker even more. And she formed it into a sphere, pushing it outwards. She could barely see it, but there seemed to be a distinctive glimmer in the air. It was magic, alright, different magic though.

Claire loved it. She smiled and made the sphere bigger.

* * *

An air witch, Rainier was the first to pick up the waves of positivity that traveled through the twisting hallways of Cloud Tower. "You feel that?" she asked Iksana, her roommate.

Iksana frowned. "Feel what?"

"I don't know," Rainier said impatiently. "It's like a fairy is here. But not. There's too much love and sunshine in the air."

Iksana sniffed the air as if she could smell it. _Idiot,_ Rainier thought. _To think she wants to join The Company. And she can't even feel magic in the air. Thinks she can smell it like some sort of bloodhound._ But then Rainier was surprised... "The candles smell different, too," Iksana noted.

Rainier didn't get how Iksana noticed this and she didn't. Maybe because she was a fire witch from Domino. Candles would be in both of their domains. "What the hell is going on?" she wondered aloud, commenting on both her thought and on the bright magic that was polluting the air.

* * *

Bloom Peters, queen of Domino and Erakyon, burst into the office, looking like the bright nineteen year old girl she had been at her own Alfea graduation, and not the forty year old woman she was now. Her skinny jeans and frilly yellow tank top did nothing to dispel the image. "Hi, Griselda," she said to the old Mistress of Discipline. "I'm here to pick up Dafne for her... special appointment."

Griselda shifted her weight carefully. "Ah, Bloom. I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, but Dafne has been getting into some trouble here already."

Bloom laughed. "Of course she has! She's my daughter! Remember how I broke, like, thirteen rules before classes even started?"

"Not that sort of trouble. She was harassing... one may say bullying... one of her classmates. Miss Story of Romula, the fairy of words. She looked like she was about to go at her, with fists or magic or both. I managed to stop it before damage was done, and she has been punished accordingly. I usually don't tell the parents- this is, after all, college- but I believe you have more influence over the young fairy than I do."

The queen sighed, rubbed her temples. "Where is she?"

"In her dormitory, now. This was yesterday. She and Story do share the same apartment, and I thought about removing Dafne. But I believe her friends will be a positive influence on her, as the Winx Club was for you and Stella. Besides, one of the most powerful lessons we teach at Alfea isn't the magic of a fairy..."

"It's the magic in a fairy," Bloom finished. "The magic of her heart, her mind, her judgment. Overcoming adversity. Learning to get along with her peers. Learning to believe in them, and in herself."

Griselda shook her head. "I don't even care to remember how many times you had to have gotten into trouble to have that speech completely memorized. But I admit, you give me hope for Dafne. I'll call her down."

* * *

Lunch found Lara, Morgan, Grace, and Story together again. The Botany teacher hadn't yet made an appearance, but they had put a substitute in the classroom for the moment. Still, most of the period was spent talking and getting to know each other better. Mostly through random questions that Morgan had dreamed up in her earlier lessons.

"Number fifty-three," she said through a mouthful of egg salad sandwich, "Favorite band?"

Story considered. "Ironically, I am crazy into the Love and Pet Band."

Grace smiled. "Mom would love that. It's not my type of music, though- I like The Magix Effect."

"Werewolves of Isis," Lara said automatically.

"Me too!" Morgan exclaimed. The two exchanged a high five before the fairy of wild animals continued. "Something you've never told anybody, but that isn't necessarily a secret."

"My hair is naturally black. It's not dyed. I just happen to have the personality to match it."

"I always wanted to have a horse; but they don't exist on Zenith."

"Um... I like the Love and Pet band."

Morgan sighed. "Those are all really lame. Except for maybe Grace's, but I knew that so it doesn't count anyway. Retry."

Lara frowned. "My mom died when I was little, in an attempt to try to domesticate carnivorous plants. I know she was really important in the magical biology community, but not much else about her. People say I look like her with darker hair."

Morgan nodded. "Wow, that sucks. Maybe after we've discovered the secrets of Grace's family, we can get to work on yours."

"I don't know," Lara shrugged. "I have Dad and Mirta and the brothers of doom. I don't want to dig up anybody else and end up in Grace's position. No offense, techno girl."

"None taken." Grace smiled. "But I'm afraid I'm an open book. No secrets, besides the whole horse thing."

"I'm the first fairy in my family," Story said suddenly. "My mom's a witch, my grandma's a witch, everybody as far back as I can trace... witch. But my grandmother paid tuition for me to go here. And I think I like it better anyway."

"Why did your grandma want you to go here if she's a witch, too?" Lara asked.

"Long story. No pun intended. Anyways, I should have a couple secrets, don't you think?"

Morgan didn't look too happy about that, nor did Lara, but they let it drop. Morgan sighed. "I'm a lesbian. I guess you knew that. So, um. I want to own a preserve for predatory wild animals, especially wolves. I love, love, love wolves. Okay, item number fifty-five..."

"Attention!"

The girls looked around. "Attention!" a voice called again, and they realized the sound was coming from the teacher's platform.

As the dining hall quieted, Miss Faragonda stood and addressed the school. "Many of you know that we have a traditional back to school ball every year. We usually invite the specialists from the Red Fountain School for Heroics, Bravery, and Magics, and we continue to carry out this tradition. However, after meeting a few of their spectacular students today, I have decided to extend an invitation to another school."

"Not Beta, not Beta, not Beta," Story heard a girl at the next table chant.

"The student witches of Cloud Tower Academy will join us as our guests. I expect you all to treat them with the same respect and love you would treat each other with."

The entire cafeteria seemed to be completely silent as the girls absorbed the news. Lara was the first to break the silence, and as a result her voice echoed throughout the room. "I think it's cool."

Immediately, the dining hall buzzed with excitement, and maybe a little fear. "What if the bitch witch sister comes?" Morgan asked.

Lara shrugged. "All the better to spy on her, my dears. See if she has any scary friends."

Grace fiddled with her earrings. "I don't know about this."

"What's there not to know? It's not suspicious or anything. It's better than sneaking into CT, though we're gonna have to do that too." Lara smiled, a little bit evilly. "Nobody will have to know a thing about this. After all, it's a dance. It's fun. And girls just wanna have fun, no?"


	11. Phone Calls From Another Dimension

**Author's Note:** I do adore the way you are... do you adore me? Dear, don't say that you don't.

* * *

_Chapter Eleven: Phone Calls From Another Dimension_

Claire picked up her cell, used magic to light a few lavender-scented candles, and dialed Rei's number. He picked up at the first ring. "Claire?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's me. What's up?"

"Nothing so important I can't hold it to talk to you," he answered immediately. Claire smiled to herself, remembering why she fell for him. Maybe she, a light and sunshiney sort of girl, wasn't right for Rei. They both knew it. But Rei knew that if you could get past the witch's eternal optimism and smiles, she was perfect. Claire, likewise, knew that when she ignored Rei's insistence that she change who she was, that he was the most perfect boyfriend ever- sensitive, caring, sweet, attentive.

"Awww, you're sweet." She said exactly what she was thinking. "But really, what's going on with you?"

Claire could almost imagining Rei shifting his papers. He hadn't gone to Red Fountain, he was more of an academic man than a hero. Instead, he had enrolled at Zenith Institute of Technology- a school with an unfortunate nickname, and an excellent Modern Wizardry program. It had been Claire's second choice, after Alfea College and about twenty-two before Cloud Tower School. "I'm just finishing up some homework for my creative programming class," Rei said. "We each have to use a combination of magic and electric energy to rewire the entire school's wizard wide web reception. Bonus points if we design an effective firewall."

"Which of course you're trying to do."

"Of course," Rei agreed easily. "All the better to get the jobs, my dear."

"Is that why you want me to be a witch?" The question slipped out almost before Claire realized what she was asking.

The phone was silent for a second. "Well?" Claire prompted.

"That's one reason," Rei admitted. "A fairy never goes anywhere in life, with a few exceptions. The Winx, for example. But most fairies end up babysitting LITTLE fairies, or teaching princesses which fork to use, or guarding kingdoms that will never actually be attacked. Fairies go nowhere, Claire. Witches have their whole lives to be incredible. And I know you can be incredible, I've seen you be."

Claire took a breath. "Rei, what if I could be the exception to the rule... and it would make me happier?"

"Honey, I've got no doubt in your abilities, but you have to realize that I make better choices than you do and that this is the best possible thing for you in the long run," Rei said gently. "When we have our apartment in Magix and good jobs that will change the world, you'll thank me. Now, I've got to go finish my assignment. I love you, Clairey. Bye bye."

Claire looked at the phone after Rei hung up. "Bye," she said a bit bitterly, and a bit late.

* * *

"How's school, sweetie?" her dad asked her.

She shrugged, though she knew he couldn't see over the phone. "I refuse to commit either way.

Helia laughed. "That's my girl, always trying to be pessimistic. Lara Lynn, being a downer is not in your blood. Your mother was as cheerful as the daisies she grew, don't try to be depressing because it isn't going to work. Tell me how it's been, really. Have you made any new friends?"

Lara shrugged again. It really was a bit of a bad habit. "Yeah, I guess. There's these three girls, Morgan, Grace, and Story. You'll never believe who Grace's mom is."

"Hmmm... some big movie star you know I've never heard of?"

"Nope, bigger."

"One of your Vampires of Isis idols."

The reluctant fairy rolled her eyes. "Dad, it's WEREWOLVES of Isis, and noooo. Her mom is Tecna. As in, Winx Club Tecna."

Her father grew quiet on the other end of the line, though Lara could still hear his breathing. "Dad?" she asked. "Is something up?"

He drew in a breath. "Lara, honey, I need to tell you something about your mother. She was in the Winx Club too."

Lara snorted. "Before or after she was a botanist, artist, and philanthropist?"

"Before."

"Oh hell," the black haired girl said. "You're being serious, aren't you?"

* * *

"We'll be there in about five minutes, Doctor Ortensia," the queen of Domino and Eraklyon said to her BloomBerry. "Thanks. Buhbye." And she hung up.

Dafne sulked in the passenger's seat. "Why do we have to go and see Doctor Ortensia again? Mommy, I'm in college now. If the Dragon Flame was ever going to pass on to me, it would have done it by now. This is just wasting your money, Doctor Ortensia's time, and my... entire... life."

Bloom glanced at her daughter for a second before putting her eyes right back on the road. The two looked almost exactly the same age- the Dragon Flame that still flowed inside of the queen kept her looking young and healthy, while Dafne was in the prime of youth. It was slightly disconcerting to anybody who didn't know the two well.

"We're going to see her because we both need to work this out mentally, even if we can't physically. You need to come to grips with your future as a fire guardian for Eraklyon and..."

"Earth to Mommy," Dafne said, "I already have."

Bloom ignored her daughter. "And I need to come to grips with always being the fairy of the Dragon Flame. Therapy is here to help both of us."

The blonde haired teenager turned her head, looked out her window. "Assuming it doesn't just drive us both insane."

* * *

"So!" Roxy asked cheerfully, "Have your friends shown up yet?"

"Yeah, on the first day," Morgan said. She had the phone between her ear and her shoulder, as her hands were occupied with a bottle of grape scented nail polish and Grace's toenails.

"And did they get there alright? I bet you were so happy to see them!"

"Yeah, they're fine. And of course, I was totally psyched to see them here."

"So, have you gone on any adventures yet? Explored Magix? Dealt with any witches?"

Morgan laughed half-heartedly. "I guess you could say that. We went into town to do a little shopping, then we ran into a witch... oh gosh, you'll never believe who has a long lost, extremely evil sister?"

Roxy paused for a second. "Wait, who are you talking about?"

"Grace. And my new friends Lara and Story. Why?"

"Well... I thought you were talking about your wolves. I paid to have them transported to you, like you knew, but I didn't know if they had arrived or not."

Morgan suppressed a fit of laughter, in the process streaking a line of dark purple polish on Grace's slender foot. "No. Not quite yet, Mama."


	12. Lies My Parents Told Me

** Author's Note: The following chapter is named for an episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer… and dedicated to the memory of my friend Christopher from Buffy Boards. Rest In Peace, buddy. You're sorely missed.**

* * *

_Chapter Twelve: Lies My Parents Told Me_

"Oh hell," Lara said. "You're being serious, aren't you?"

"Completely."

She sat down, grabbed a scrunchie with her free hand and twisted her hair into a ponytail. Twila, her roommate, looked over at Lara curiously as she did her makeup in a large vanity that took up a good chunk of the dorm room. "You told me my mother's name was Fleur. That was a lie?"

Helia cleared his throat. "Not exactly. That's what I called your mother, when it was just our family. It flowed better than Flora. When she died... I just never stopped calling her that. I didn't want your life to be based on who your mother was."

"And what was she exactly? How did she die? What was she like?" Helia had never much talked about Lara's mother. If he was going to open up now, Lara wanted some answers.

Helia took in a deep breath. "I met Flora when we were sophomores in college. I had just transferred from the Antarian Conservatory of Music and Art to Red Fountain. Everyone in Magix was different from the loving, kind Antarians. Magix was the big city, and it was brisker, dynamic. Your mother wasn't like that. She seemed to exist separately from the beat of the city. We were both too shy to make a move at first... but we grew and we changed, and we fell in love."

"The rest of the Winx Club had started their lives together- or in Layla's case, alone on Melody- before we did, but my flower girl was the first to get pregnant... you were conceived in the honeymoon suite in the Magix Grande Hotel. You know you were premature, born two and a half months before you were due... she was so worried about you, but you made it alright. We named you Lara on the suggestion of Queen Bloom of Eraklyon herself. She said it was part because it sounded like Flora, and part because of some Tomb Raider franchise on Earth... your "Auntie Bloom-Bloom" said you needed a strong name. We added Lynn as your Earth middle name, because it sounded like music in our ears. Little Lara Lynn."

"When you were six months old, Flora died. She was trying to coax medicine out of a difficult, carnivorous plant. All she got was poison. Your mother, in the end, was betrayed by what she was supposed to have power over."

"At her funeral, her friend Mirta came up to you and me with a casserole she had placed a spell on... one that helped the consumers find the healing magic within grief. We started getting together before long... she was almost my grief counselor. In a year, we had fallen in love, though never as deeply as I was with your mother. And... well, you know the rest of the story."

Lara was silent for so long that Helia said into the phone, "Honey? Are you there?"

"Yeah, Dad," she replied. "It's... just a lot to take in."

"It sure is, sweetie. It's why I've never told you before."

"I think you should have. Queen Bloom was right about something. I am a strong girl. I could have handled it."

Helia sighed. "I have no doubt of your strength. You have always been incredible. Never afraid to fight."

Lara pulled a strand of her dark hair out of the ponytail it was in. "Yeah, that's me. The violent one... listen, I have to go do some work for class. I'll call you later, Dad."

She hung up before he could answer.

* * *

A knock on the door of the apartment that Story and her friends (and enemies) shared roused Grace and Morgan from their nap on Morgan's bed. Where, yes, they really were just sleeping.

Morgan rubbed her eyes, stretched, and got up. Despite the fact that nothing happened, she looked like maybe something had- all bed-head and exhaustion. She jumped gracefully off the bed and went to answer the door. She opened it to find a senior with brown hair in a french twist looking very uncomfortable... and two twin wolves looking a mixture of disgruntled and happy to see their friend. "Um... yeah... well... bye..." the senior stuttered, not bothering to be sure that this was the right apartment or right fairy before running as fast as her legs could take her down the halls of the east wing.

Chelsa's ears pricked up and her tail started wagging. _Chase?_ she asked in Morgan's head.

Morgan laughed. "Not a good idea," she said. She bent down and hugged her two friends' furry bodies.

Grace came up behind them and yawned... and then freaked out. "WHAT?" she screeched.

"What do you mean, what?" Morgan asked innocently.

Grace threw her hands up, then immediately threw them back down. "The wolves are here. I thought they were going to stay on Earth. They aren't exactly your pets."

"No," Morgan said, hugging the pair harder. "They are not my pets. They are my friends, and they wanted to come, and for the last time, sweetie, they aren't going to eat you."

"How do you know? You said yourself that you couldn't control them."

"I can't. But they like me... and I do things for them... and then I call in favors. And don't even get me started on the names. They weren't my idea, or else they'd probably be 'Princess Powerful,' and 'Chuck Norris.' Every animal has a true name. Like they say in the musical 'Cats."

Grace eyed the wild animals suspiciously. "So. They're not living here, are they?"

Morgan repeated the question as the wolves had been tuning everything out, wistfully looking down the hall where the older fairy had run. Brandhilie allowed himself to be swayed from the wolfish daydream, answering that they would go to the woods and make a home there. Morgan relayed the answer back to Grace, who sighed in relief.

The wolves padded back down the hall, on the way out of the school. "Are you sure they won't get killed by scared fairies?" Grace asked, sounding like she wouldn't mind if they did.

"They take care of themselves. I just help them out every now and again, and they do the same for me." Morgan smiled. It was good to have a few friends from home.

* * *

"Dafne, our last session was dedicated to getting you ready for Alfea. How is it so far?"

The blonde fairy took a deep breath. "I didn't tell them about my deficiency, if that's what you're asking."

Dr. Ortensia adopted a concerned look. "We've talked about this, Dafne. First of all, it is not a deficiency. You are simply fated to become a different person than your mother. You are a formidable fairy, remember that affirmation? Have you been saying that into a mirror three times a day?"

"I told you I wasn't going to do that stupid affirmation thing."

"Very well. But you at least should acknowledge that by refusing to disclose the source of your power, not only are you putting yourself in unnecessary danger from the people who crave the Dragon's Flame, you are also tangling yourself and those you care about in an unhealthy web of lies and deception."

"I've been doing that for sixteen years!" the patient screamed. "Nobody outside Eraklyon's and Domino's royal palaces knows that I'm a plain-old, nothing-special fire fairy and not the next keeper of the Dragon's Flame! Why can't I go on lying?"

Doctor Ortensia slid her glasses down her face, so nothing was between her eyes and Dafne's. "I don't normally use this language, but I'm going to tell it to you straight, Princess Dafne. If you don't tell the truth as soon as you can, your lies are going to turn around and bite you in the ass, and damn, its going to hurt."

She stood, indicating the end of her individual session with Dafne and the beginning of the therapy that involved both mother and daughter. "I won't envy you when that happens. Not one bit."


	13. Ready and Set

**Author's Note: This chapter is also dedicated to Christopher. Reports of his death were greatly exaggerated. **

* * *

_Chapter Thirteen: Ready and Set_

The day of the dance came quickly... well, it _was_ only the next day. Story and her friends rushed through the decoration day, eagerly anticipating the dance- not just for the fun of it, but for the beginning of their detective work.

When at last, the party planning duties were through, they all met in Story and Morgan's dorm. "So," Lara said. She was still in her everyday black tank top and jeans, but a formal gown was draped over her arms delicately. She stroked it as she spoke. "Do we have a plan?"

Everyone looked to Grace, who shrugged. "Enjoy ourselves... and we'll meet back here to talk later. Hopefully if we stick close to the witches, especially Rainier, we can find some pretty vital stuff out."

"I dunno," Morgan said. "Would they really be talking business at a dance?"

"They would if they were trying to spy on us like we're doing on them," Story commented. "For all we know, Rainier is just as curious and relatively uneased by Grace as Grace is by her. Maybe she'll want to see what she can find out while they're here."

Grace bit her lip. "Okay, part two of my pretty much nonexistent plan- be careful."

"Aka, first rule of Winx Daughters Club, nobody talks about Winx Daughters Club," Morgan said, her eyes laughing but the rest of her face remaining perfectly serious.

Story rolled her eyes. "We are NOT the Winx Daughters Club."

Grace smiled. "Well, we do need a name. Makes it easy for quick reference."

"I'm thinking! I'll let you know when I have one!"

Lara started changing out of her school outfit and into her formal dress- a long, deep red sheath dress with what looked like a black dahlia sparkle decal above her right breast. "So, we're just going to see if we can hear anything?"

"Pretty much," Story said. "Need any help with that, Lara?" She was referencing the dress, which now featured a very stuck zipper. "Close," she said, embedding the word with power. The door to the open closet in the room slammed. "Okay... um, free?" Lara's dress fell to the floor, her zipper looser. "Well, it almost worked."

Lara slipped her gown on again, zipping with no problem. "I'm not quite sure whether to thank you or just be happy you didn't cause any worse damage."

"So Grace," Morgan said. "Aren't you going to put your dress on?"

Grace blushed. "In my room. You so don't get to see it until the dance!"

"That's not fair!" the fairy of wild animals protested.

"Oh, it is so!"

"You guys can see my dress and tell me what you think," Story said, breaking into the conversation. She re-opened the door of the closet and pulled out a large, pale purple tee shirt.

Everyone stared. After a couple beats of silence, Lara said what they were all thinking. "You realize that you're going to look like a total slut in that?"

"No, I'm not. I've been practicing with my powers, and experimenting with some of the stuff I've learned in AP Spells and Comp. Watch this." Story cleared her throat, then recited, "_A stretchy shirt of violet cloth, I bid you make a dress. A formal gown, but please not goth, these conditions I do stress. If this spell fails I shall be wroth, for there may be a mess."_

The shirt leaped out of Story's hand, twisting and stretching before the eyes of the group. The collar dropped a little, the hem was lengthened so it touched the floor, and the entire thing filled out. It had been transformed into a glittery prom-type formal dress.

And then the sparkles exploded into flowers, the flowers throwing petals across the room.

"Agh! No!" Story cried, waving her arms back and forth in a desperate, pathetic attempt to stop the spell. "I said DON'T make a mess! Sort of! Aw, come on, this worked when I tried it before!"

Grace frowned. "Did you do anything differently? At all?"

"Well, I had Professor DuFour's help..." Story trailed.

"Maybe you just need a little assistance directing your powers," the communications fairy suggested. "Maybe if we all transform and converge."

"What?" Lara said. "Convergence? Isn't that sophomore or junior stuff?"

"Morgan and I have done it before. It's really not hard."

Lara stayed skeptical. "It isn't all sexy, is it?"

"Nope."

"Well... if you wanna try, Story, I'm game."

Story nodded and allowed her body to take over as she transformed. She was aware of her friends changing around her, but could barely see them in the swirl of magic around herself. When the transformation was complete, she looked around.

Grace's magic form was the simplest- purple pants and a purple tube top. Her deep purple hair was unbraided for the first time since Story had known her, flowing freely onto her green, linear wings. A necklace of little green jewels accompanied the ensemble, as did silver heels.

Lara was looking a little unhappy, a little embarrassed... and very pink. A pink ultra-miniskirt with black lace fringe at the bottom showed off her legs in a way that was almost too slutty for Magix (and that took a lot). Her top looked like it consisted completely of pink and black criss-crossing ribbons, covering quite a bit, though the overall effect seemed to scream "SEX PIXIE!" anyhow. Pink go-go boots were on her feet, and pink and black roses had magically appeared in her dark hair, some spilling onto her translucent black wings.

It was Morgan who was truly spectacular, however. Her skirt was made completely of different layers of tulle, alternating green and pink. A white long-sleeved tee shirt was underneath a more prominent green vest. Her short hair had lengthened considerably, a few strands going blonde. It now hung to her butt, with a low ponytail keeping it out of her face. Green flats with white knee socks adorned her feet. And her wings were huge, a see-through green with pink edges. "That's not your magic form, is it?" Story gasped.

Morgan shrugged. "Well, no... I'm a Believix fairy. But it has about the same amount of power as my magic form unless I'm on Earth."

"It's... it's incredible," Lara said.

"Yeah, isn't it? She looks even more gorgeous than normal in Believix form!" Grace said, proud as if she had been the Believix fairy and not Morgan.

"How'd you get it?" Story was seriously curious.

"Well, every world has a special power you can unlock... like, for Adquistes, you can go Charmix. It seriously powers you up, but only while you are in the realm you got it from. Otherwise, it's just another outfit. Anyway, when I was dating Snake, I accidentally fulfilled the requirements to get Believix by getting her to believe in magic. No big deal. In fact, I was originally planning to be a witch, and so I really didn't care at all. But now, it's nice. It has the same amount of magic as going into Magic Morgan, and it looks a hell of a lot cuter. Plus, I have fairy dust and I can shrink... that normally doesn't happen until you gain Enchantix and become a real fairy. And my spells are different. But really, that's it."

Lara was full-on gaping. "That is so totally sweet."

Grace took Morgan's hand- very delicately- and took Lara's fingers in the other hand. "Okay. Let's join hands and channel our magic all together." Lara and Morgan grasped Story's hands, completing the circle. Story looked gratefully at her friends.

"Now, concentrate on how the dress looked before it exploded," Grace instructed, her eyes closed. "Focus your powers into your hands and the hands of everyone else, and into the dress."

The girls complied. Story could pick out the dark, floral strands of Lara's power... the bright and animal wild magic that was Morgan's... the pure energy Grace commanded. She channeled her own power around the group, and into her ruined dress.

"Okay!" Grace near-shouted. She, as all the others were, was glowing softly, radiant with the shared power. "Now we each have to add something to it... I'll start." She threw her head back and directed her magic. "Power of communications... I give this dress the highest protection and repairs!"

The dress pulsed and returned to it's first state.

"I give it the beauty of a thousand roses," Lara said, throwing her own magic in.

"The confidence of the wilderness to the dress and it's wearer!" Morgan said. "And, does anybody else feel like the fairies in Sleeping Beauty?"

"What?" asked Lara.

"Never mind."

Story smiled. "And I give it the ability to render all cute boys absolutely speechless."

They released the power. "Oh Dragon," Morgan breathed. "I think we overdid it."

Story immediately transformed back into her civilian form and slipped on the purple dress. It wasn't at all it's original design. But that was fine by her. The new dress was like a fairy dress in an Earth story- a purple laced loose bodice with a skirt that was made of thousands of white rose petals. The design was wild, carefree, and stunning. With Story's blonde hair loose around it, the effect made her look like a nature goddess.

"All we need now is Maria singing "I Feel Pretty," and we're good!" Morgan exclaimed, taking her own dress out of the closet. It wasn't special- just a blue corset with a matching tutu attached. She let her civilian form take over and started to strip.

Grace paled. "Um... I'm going to go change now. In my room. Away from here."

When she had nervously backed out of the dorm, Lara smiled mischievously at Morgan. "Haven't seen each other naked yet?"

"Lar, I'm sixteen. She's fifteen. We're young, there's tons of time for all of this."

"Looks like I'm the old maid, huh? I took a year off before college, so I'll be eighteen in a couple of months. Didn't realize you all were so young. Since when do they let kids like Grace into Alfea, anyway?"

"Grace is obviously brilliant," Morgan said huffily. "Much older than she seems."

"I'm just kidding with you, Mor."

Story laughed as she strapped on her heels. It was great to already have friends she felt this close to.

_Seven to be turned to more  
Power plenty is in store  
Three to covet what they need  
Six to be tempted by greed  
A Company to be split in two  
Who of your friends are truly with you?_

Story shrieked a little as the words popped into her head. Lara and Morgan turned towards her. "What's wrong?" asked the flower fairy, looking worried.

"It's nothing." The word fairy shook her head to clear it. "I thought I saw a spider."

"Oh! Really? Where? Spiders are so cute and sweet!" Morgan started eagerly searching the floor. "Here, spider spider spider... oh, wait." She started to glow, then stopped a moment later, looking very confused. "I don't sense any spiders? Are you sure?"

"Um, no... maybe I saw something that just looked like a spider."

"What could look like a spider?" Lara muttered. But the girls turned back to getting ready for the dance, and Story started silently freaking out while keeping a small smile on her face.

_What was that? Did I just get like, a prophecy or something? What does it mean? 'Seven to be turned to more?' Like, splitting or something? _Her brain was starting to hurt. She decided to keep the words out of her head until the dance was over. But as she thought this, more words- a second part- entered her head like a stampede.

_A blonde to go black and never go back  
Destiny tricked and turned off track  
The position desired will not be fulfilled  
For the darkness within is cunning and skilled  
Your choice is made, your fate is set  
But the universe will not fall to you yet._

Story took care not to gasp- but it was harder this time. She looked at her straight, golden hair and cringed.

Was she- granddaughter of the reknowned Poesia Faragonda- dark? Should she really have been a witch?

More importantly- was she, Story of Romula, really evil enough to alter the history of the magical universe?


	14. Before Alfea: Lara

_Before Alfea: Lara_

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Lara of Linphea, currently residing on Illusis with her family, wasn't one that enjoyed the calm. She was chaotic and wild at heart, a trait she was sure wasn't genetic- or if it was, she sure hadn't inherited it from her father. Her mother had been dead for years, but Mirta, her stepmother, was as close to a replacement as you could get. Not nearly close enough, really, but Mirta was cool.

Lara turned on some of her metal music, trying to stop the silence that seemed to buzz in her ears. She clicked the stopwatch that was always on her bedtime table as well. It had become a game- how long could the Werewolves of Isis play their wailing, screeching songs before someone came up to her room and politely asked her to tone it down? The record was three and a half minutes.

The song hadn't even reached the chorus when someone quietly opened the door. Lara knew her triplet half-brothers well enough to distinguish them on sight, and both Heketoro and Helios had come to complain about the noise. Half a second later, Raiden joined them.

The triplets all looked like their mother, except for the smooth black hair that Lara had also inherited from their father. But while her skin was darker, her eyes smaller, her features strangely graceful, her brothers had pale skin and always looked slightly astonished. If they could, they all stuck together, too, which gave them the appearance of being scared. She could hardly believe that they were all attending different colleges. Heketoro had a destiny to fulfill, one that could only be accomplished by being a fairy. Helios had a natural flair for magic, and planned to be a wizard, and Raiden had a "brilliant" plan to create a form of magical martial arts that could incapacitate an enemy without making them feel the slightest bit of pain. He felt Red Fountain training was the only way to go.

That led to the reason she was in her room. College.

A year ago, she had begged and pleaded to be allowed to go away to school, specifically to major in Potions and Poisons at Cloudtower. Mirta had bit her lip. Lara's dad had looked shocked (though, to anyone who really knew Lara, it wasn't particularly shocking). The parents had slipped into another room for an hour, and when they returned, they asked her to wait a year and go off to school with her brothers. So she could keep an eye on them.

Of course, they really wanted the responsible triplets to keep an eye on Lara, but what were details?

Now the house was hustle and bustle, applications, and people taking the Supernatural Aptitude Test or the Art and Combat Test, and working to save some extra money. Oh yeah. And Lara not being able to apply to Cloudtower.

"Alfea is a much more stable environment, one we feel you need!" her father said.

"And Lara, honey… they'd chew you up and spit you out at Cloudtower. The girls there are brutal. Besides, you don't want to waste your lovely plant powers on horrible hexes. You should use them to make people happy." That was Mirta, who had spent a semester at Cloudtower herself, but ended up attending Alfea College.

"Lara? LARA?"

Lara looked up. Her brothers were all staring at her- their facial features made them look incredulous. "Oh. Yeah. What do you want?" she asked.

Raiden cleared his throat. "Um. Mom wants you. And Dad says to keep the screeching down. It's starting to curse the neighbors."

"That's not even possible," Lara scoffed. But she switched the stereo off and went downstairs to meet her stepmother.

Mirta was tidying up the living room. Her red hair, in a 50's style bob cut, was frizzy in the first of that year's heat waves. Her black tee shirt and jean shorts were perfect for enjoying the weather. Next to her, Lara felt a little like a bag lady, what with the gothic dress she wore almost touching the floor and all. And that was just the sleeves. It didn't help that Mirta was unnaturally skinny.

The older woman looked up. "Hey, honey," she said. "Did I bother anything? I couldn't ask over all that loud music."

Lara rolled her eyes, but couldn't help a little smile. "No, not really," she admitted. "Just sulking. What do you need?"

"Just some help with supper. Is that okay?"

A side effect of being a plant _magica_ was a love of cooking, of manipulating plants to be amazingly delicious. Lara was good at it even for a plant girl. "No problem," she said.

The pair walked into the kitchen and began putting the food together. "Mirta," Lara asked. "Why did you want to go to Cloud Tower?"

Mirta frowned. "So I could be important. I wanted people to look to me and know I changed the world. I didn't really get my wish, though I know people who did."

"The Winx?" The legendary team of seven were the only fairies (besides Mirta) that Lara ever respected. Despite being all goodness and light, nobody could deny that the Winx were truly great.

The redheaded woman nodded her confirmation. "You know I have a bit of a part in their stories, though not enough that I'll be remembered in them. Nobody will tell the stories of Mirta, the fairy of illusions."

Lara hugged her stepmother. "I will. I know the stories well enough to tell them. Though I do have a hard time believing you were ever punk."

"I'll show you the pictures sometimes, Lara honey," Mirta laughed.

Lara smiled. Mirta was a fairy, despite her first choice of school at age sixteen. She couldn't understand. But that didn't mean she wasn't a great mom.


	15. So It Begins

_Chapter Fifteen: So It Begins_

Anya and Dafne turned to face the door to the room as it opened. "What is it?" the blonde girl snapped, and Anya cringed. It wasn't even her friend's dorm! _Well, that's Princess Dafne,_ she told herself. _She takes command no matter where she is._

"Um," said the voice from the door. It was Grace. "I was just coming in here to change clothes."

"Why couldn't you have done that back with the others? Obviously you prefer Morgan and those two freaks to the only other people who get you. They're not ever going to know what it's like to have a famous relative. Always overshadowed and all. Well, if you like them better, go change in the nerd room. Or, you can hang with An and me."

Grace was blushing, and looked scared. "But Daf, this is my room," she commented.

"It is," Anya said. "She's got a right to change in here. Besides, Dafne, you're right. She's a double-you-dee. She gets how it goes. It's not like we're letting Story in or anything."

Dafne's eyes widened and her hands balled into fists at her side. "I told you not to say that witch's name!" she said. "I told you what she did to me! She is nobody and should be treated as such!"

"I think you're taking this a bit far," Anya soothed as Grace snuck up and began to change into her dress while Dafne was distracted.

"Too far? I'm taking this too far? Maybe you don't realize that I got chewed out by my mother, who, may I remind you, is the incarnation of a god?"

Anya furrowed her brow. "I thought that was you. Isn't the keeper of the Dragon Flame the person who has the Dragon inside of them?"

There was a fleeting look of shock, then Dafne's face became a bit haughty. "Once you have contained the Flame, part of the god stays with you forever. So don't ever mess with the royal family of Domino, or even the royal family of Eraklyon. Or else we'll make sure you're reincarnated as… something disgusting."

"A bug?" Anya said, shuddering.

"Worse." Dafne thought. "We'll reincarnate you as Story."

* * *

Grace crept back out of the room while Dafne was laughing. Her sparkly pink ball gown got caught under the door as she closed it, and she momentarily hated herself for being so clumsy. Luckily, it was easy enough to pull out without ripping, but it still annoyed her a little. The whole situation annoyed her a little, not that she'd ever let anyone know.

Why was she so skittish about being naked in a room with Morgan? It wasn't like the smaller girl would jump her. The two other members of the nameless group were there, and Mor knew her manners. Even if she didn't, Grace was bigger and stronger and could take care of herself.

The more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt. Why should she mind so much about Morgan seeing her unclothed? They had been going out for over a year. Nearly two years. All that had happened was talking and kissing and the very occasional breast feel. Extremely occasional. Once. Actually, it was about half of one, as it was through the shirt and Grace had screamed.

_Maybe I'm not right for her. I'm too skittish. I don't even know if I'm fully gay. Dragon, I'm only fifteen. But she's older, and wiser, and well… hornier, I guess. Is this something I want?_

She was getting less and less sure.

* * *

The nameless group gathered in the main hall of Alfea, already filled with Specialists and witches. There was dancing, for those in couples and some of those who weren't. A long table of food stood against the western wall. On the opposite side were boxes, filled with the traditional gifts that the boys would bestow upon the girls. There were twice as many as was traditional, a sign of goodwill towards the students of Cloud Tower.

Lara looked around. "There's Heketoro," she said, faint annoyance in her voice. "I didn't think he'd come down."

"Heketoro?" Story asked.

"My brother. Half-brother. Mirta and my dad's kid."

The boy was coming their way. "So, he goes to Red Fountain?"

"No. He's got a special acceptance to Alfea. He can't get a degree or anything, but he can take classes and study to be a fairy."

Morgan frowned. "I didn't know guys could become fairies."

"Male fairies are rare. There's only a handful, maybe ten in the entire universe. Heketoro is kind of special."

They hushed as he came up to them. "Hello, Lara. It's nice to see you. How have your classes been?"

"They're fine, and yours?"

Heketoro smiled a bit. "They keep me busy. I have more homework than I expected. But I guess I asked for it, what with all the advanced classes."

"Tell me about it!" Story said, not thinking about interrupting. It was too good to have someone who understood. "I'm in AP Spells and Comp with DuFour. It's killing me slowly."

"AP Spells and Comp?" The boy's eyebrows raised. "Are you a junior?"

"She's a freshie, like the rest of us," Morgan cut in. "Our Story just happens to be exceptionally brilliant."

Story glanced at her roommate, wondering where all the bragging came from. The fairy of wild animals winked. Suddenly, Story understood. _Ohhhh. She thinks that he could be interested… or maybe that I could? _She looked at Heketoro. He _was_ kind of cute. "I don't know about brilliant," she said, suddenly a bit shy. "I'm just a word fairy. It's sort of my thing."

"That's still very good. I tested into Honors Incantations, but even that's just a sophomore class. Spells and Comp is pretty impressive."

Out of the corner of her eyes, Story saw Morgan whispering to the other two members of the group. Suddenly, Lara announced, "You two are being nerdy. I'm going to go get punch."

"And we're going to dance," Morgan said, pulling Grace closer.

Story frowned. "But what about…"

Before she could finish the thought, Morgan gestured pointedly at the ballroom. Plenty of girls were dancing with each other, just as friends. Obviously, Morgan and Grace felt a couple songs wouldn't reveal their secret. Story grinned, and said "Have fun, guys."

"You four seem close," Heketoro noted.

Story shrugged. "Yeah, we kind of are. It's a little odd. We've known each other what, two, three days? And here we are, the best of friends."

"I like it," the male fairy said seriously. "Lara needed some people. Life's been hard on her."

"I think we all needed people. We all have our trials and tribulations." Story thought about Morgan's homosexuality… the 'outsider' status of Lara and herself both… Grace's long-lost sister…

"Oh Dragon," Story breathed. She looked around.

Heketoro frowned, and he seemed truly concerned. "Story, what's wrong?"

"Nothing much, just..."_ I don't think I can tell Heketoro, _"Well, see, Grace has an evil twin sister who's been lost to her for years, and we have to keep an eye on her so she doesn't try anything funny."

His concerned frown deepened. "What does Grace have?"

"Did I just say that out loud?"

"Either that, or your word powers picked this moment to project your thoughts."

"I wouldn't put it past my subconscious," Story replied, thinking about her bad dream and shivering a bit.

Heketoro grabbed her hand, and she gasped, surprised. He smiled at her. "Don't worry. I'll help you keep an eye out. If you four are as tight as you say you are, Lara could get involved, and she needs someone to keep an eye out for her. And maybe I'm wrong, Story, but it seems like you need someone keeping an eye on you as well."

* * *

Claire was not having a good time. She was being the ultimate wallflower, in fact. The Cloud Tower students all seemed to group together, except when they hit on a cute guy, but she wasn't one of them. Nor was she a fairy, though. Her magic was darker and more practical.

She was lost in these thoughts when she suddenly went tumbling to the floor. "Ouch!" she cried, at the exact same time as a taller girl, one with dark hair and wire glasses. Her skin was a medium shade, and her green eyes were narrowed, annoyed. Claire couldn't tell if this was an extremely pissed off fairy or a witch.

"Watch where you're going," the girl muttered.

Claire was a naturally shy, polite girl, but a few days of witch school had already begun to make marked differences in her personality. At least, enough that she stood, and confidently said, "Excuse me? You ran into me, not the other way around. I was just standing there!"

The girl frowned. "You still should have been looking."

"Well, I'm not the only one!" Claire wasn't sure whether she was being a confident, bold witch or a really stupid one. But the words were out of her mouth before she could be sure either way.

The girl looked like she was about to slap Claire, but before she could, two other girls came up behind her. "Cool it, Lara," the smaller one said. "She really was just standing there."

The girl- apparently Lara- glared at Claire. "Whatever," she said. "I'm not wasting my time on a fairy that doesn't even socialize. I mean, like, what's the point?" The last sentence was said mockingly.

"I'm a witch," Claire said, surprised at how easy the words came out. To compensate, she added, "not that I wanted to be. But I'm Claire. The witch of dreams."

The girl who told Lara to cool it replied, "I'm Morgan, fairy of animals. The sourpuss is Lara, fairy of plants. And this lovely, quiet girl is Grace, fairy of social networking. It's cool to meet you, Claire."

It wasn't a 'let's be friends' introduction; it was simply a polite thing, and Claire was not surprised when the three girls walked off. She sighed. At least she had _some _social interaction that night.

* * *

Rainier had escaped to the bathrooms of Alfea- which, for the record, were as disgustingly pink as the rest of the school- for some quick primping.

Her hair, normally down, was tied into a tight braid. Her eyes had been made-up to look a little bit wider, more innocent. The high heels on her feet were tall enough to give her a couple extra inches. As for clothes, her gown was a pale, sparkly princess-y piece in the same color as the Alfea walls. She despised it, but it was worn for good purposes.

The witch gave a smile into the mirror, trying for sweet. _It's an odd expression_, she decided.

Taking a brief look around the restroom to make sure nobody else was there, she recited the words that she had memorized that morning. _"You see a girl, she is not me. See the features that you want to see."_ It was a basic glamour, one that would not make her look any different, but would smudge her features so they could be mistaken for someone else.

Someone who looked a lot like Rainier already.


	16. Planning Done Wrong

_Chapter Sixteen: Planning Done Wrong_

Corinthia Collins was not having a ball at the ball.

She prided herself on being two things, strong and feminine. After all, who could pull those off at the same time? For nineteen years, she had kept up both, managing to stay cool, collected, and looking good in a very alone childhood- two workaholic parents, one of whom Thia was convinced was a secret agent, made for loneliness. She was kind of like Matilda, only she knew very well that her Momma and her Father loved her very much.

Then she started seeing the future. Not anything earth shattering, just stuff like the lunch special at the Frutti Music Bar for the next week, and her SAT scores a few days before they came in. She knew enough about weird things to know that telling people was generally A Very Bad Idea (after all, she HAD read Harry Potter and a few other fantasy novels in her day), but somehow Momma found out. She always did, despite only seeing Thia once or twice a year. And then, sorry Yale, Thia had to be packed off to some college on another planet. And not even the pink one that was hosting the ball, Alfea, where they trained future magic users. Thia got rejected from Alfea. She had to go to the one for boys, across that lake with the unpronounceable name.

Red Fountain School for Heroics and Bravery. It sounded like a boarding school for juvenile delinquents, not a college where honor roll popular girls with a hint of street smarts continued their education.

Thia liked her psychic classes well enough, and she had liked choosing a weapon. She ended up picking a magical bow and quiver of arrows that fed off the little bit of magic she did have, and she had gotten pretty good with them in the last couple weeks of school. What she didn't like was always having to put her hair up instead of letting it hang down on her back. She didn't like the khaki and blue jumpsuit and cape uniform (although the pink brooch that fastened the cape was okay). She didn't like the pixie, Cassidy, who had attached herself to Thia and was even now buzzing around.

Thia was not having a ball at the ball. She should have been wearing some spectacular dress and flirting, but instead she was in uniform and sulking on the wall next to a strawberry-headed witch in a flowing white dress. Even that witch had gotten more social activity than Thia had, after being harassed by three fairies. The only time anyone even talked to Thia was when a witch asked her if she was a lesbian (the answer: no).

_Glamour spell. Bad one._

Thia knew it immediately. She could smell it, one of the few things magical that she could do. Though she couldn't cast spells, the psychic stuff inside of her allowed her to sense when magic was around... and what the intent of the magic was.

She cast her senses and found that the source of the power was a girl, average height, with hair a strange mix of brown and red and purple. Her features were slightly blurry, as if Thia's contact lenses had suddenly switched with the ones from three prescriptions ago, but when Thia squinted she could make out the scowl. As the girl pushed on the nearby door that led to Alfea's back terrace, Thia placed a hand on her phantobow and got ready to pursue.

As she took a step, a hand fell on her shoulder. "Hey, finally going someplace?" said a familiar voice.

"Hi, Raiden," Thia said. "Um, I've got to... touch up my makeup. And the lighting is better outside. I know I'm supposed to be one of the people passing out the gifts, but can you cover for me until I get back?"

* * *

It was so fucking obvious that she was being followed. What wasn't obvious was who was following her.

Rainier wanted to say it was Morgan, Gracie's cute little girlfriend who was only ¼ magica. But to Morgan, Rainier looked just like Grace. There would be no need for her to hide herself as this person did. Who else had magic that weak, though? Nobody that Rainier knew or knew of.

As she approached the dorm of the Winx Daughters, or whatever they called themselves, she stopped and turned around. "I know you're following me," she said, ignoring all guise and making her voice as threatening as possible. "Come out now."

She was surprised to see a Specialist reveal herself. Herself. A girl specialist, with mocha skin and wild black hair. Her brooch was pink, and a phantobow was held at the ready. "Hi," said the Specialist. "What's with the glamour spell?"

For a moment, Rainier faltered. Was her spellwork that obvious? She recovered quickly. "None of your business."

The Specialist tilted her head. "Well, I don't know. Red Fountain students are supposed to be protectors, and that means sometimes we gotta be investigators too. So, what's up? Or we could start smaller. You're... a witch, right? I can sense it. So why are you wearing pink?"

"Company business."

The Specialist looked confused. Like she had never heard of the Company before. "Um... so, Sneaking Into Dorm Rooms, Inc.?"

"The Company of Light. Defenders of magic. Protectors. Like you."

"And what does a company of protectors want with the dorm room of a group of fairies? Are they menaces to the magical dimension?"

"As a matter of fact, they are."

"So shouldn't you be reporting it to Faragonda, Griffin, or Saladin? Or even some upperclassmen Specialists?"

Rainier glared at the girl so hard that she thought her eyes might catch fire. "News flash, this isn't some backwards new magic planet like Earth or something. Magix is the college realm of dreams. When we have problems, we fucking deal with them ourselves. Did you not learn that at RF? Or do the boys do all your work there?"

The Specialist's jaw dropped for a split second, then her mouth formed into a narrow line and she raised her phantobow. "Take it back."

In a flash, Rainier realized how perfect her situation was. It couldn't have been better, actually. Even if everything had gone as planned. Quickly, she prepped a spell, reciting all but one word of it under her breath. Then, she looked up at the Specialist, who was still fuming.

"I can't take it back," Rainier said, "if it's true."

The female Specialist shot an arrow flying into Rainier's arm, and as the phantarrow disappeared, the witch cried out with pain.

* * *

"Sure nobody'll look here?"

Morgan smiled. "Promise. Nobody knows about this place except a few upperclasswomen... or in my case, the daughter of an alumna. I can't believe your mom never mentioned this garden."

"We didn't see each other much," Grace noted wryly.

"I'm going to get some punch. Stay here for a sec?"

"Um, I need to use the restroom. I'll meet you back here though. Good?"

"Definitely. See you in a few."

* * *

Story jumped as the alarm started sounding, an annoying buzzing noise that felt like it would break her ears.

Around her, she could see other people jumping, Specialists saying "what the heck?" and fairies and witches covering their ears. Story then chanced a glance at her grandmother, who had pulled up a magistream that flitted through multiple views of the hallways before it settled on... Grace? Grace in front of their dorm room, wincing in pain, as a willowy framed specialist aimed a phantobow at her. Story broke free from Heketoro and started pushing through the crowd.

She ran from the ballroom and up to the dorm. And just as she had seen over the stream, Grace was rubbing her arm and whimpering in pain. A Red Fountain student... wait, was that a female student?... looked shocked, like she didn't mean to hurt anyone. But that barely registered... and besides, did it matter? Grace was hurt, and Story was pissed. "Why did you hurt my friend?" she said, calmly as possible. Still, an edge of danger crept into her voice.

"She was trying to break into this dorm room!" The Specialist bit her lip. "She said something about company."

"She lives here, idiot."

Story looked behind her. Lara and Heketoro were standing there, and Lara seemed to be taking charge. "She lives here, and goes to school here, and she's totally cool. And you're not. Maybe you should check your facts before you shoot someone's eye out."

"She lives here? But she's a witch!" The girl looked so confused that Story might have felt sorry for her if she didn't want to punch her in the face more than anything. "She's evil."

Lara and Story looked at each other- the looks on their faces seemed to say "can you believe this nut?" Lara laughed shortly. "I wanted to be a witch. So did that girl's girl- I mean, best friend."

"And I'm the first fairy in a line of ancient and powerful witches," Story added.

"And we're both witches ourselves," said Grandma Faragonda as she and Griffin arrived on the scene. "Do remind me to tell dear Saladin that he needs to buff up on diversity training."

"Where is Headmaster Saladin?" asked the girl. "I need to speak with him right away!"

"He has to watch eight hundred teenagers and make sure none of THEM put an arrow into another student. I can guarantee you'll be speaking with him later, though. For now, I'm going to have to ask you to remove yourself from the Alfea campus. A special transport is waiting for you. Follow me, Miss Collins."

Griffin, Faragonda, and the girl headed downstairs, and Story turned to Lara and Heketoro. "You guys go back down, find Morgan. I'll stay here with Grace." The two nodded and followed the headmistresses down the stairs.

Story smiled at Grace. "Don't look so worried. Grandma's tougher than she looks; that girl won't know what hit her."

"Grandma?"

Story blinked slowly. "Damn it. I was trying not to say. Um... yeah. The headmistress is my grandmother. Don't tell, okay? Not even Morgan. Please?"

Grace smiled. "Don't worry. I won't tell a soul."


End file.
